But she did not listen long; she wanted to talk. “You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall above, and quickly drew himself up. A tarnish of constraint that had recently spread over her intercourse with Capes vanished again.
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