ity in justice.' He caught sight of her pale tired face, and
the dilated eye which always appeared in her with weariness. 'Darling,'
he continued warmly, and kissing her, 'you shall not work so hard
again--you are worn out quite. But you must let me do as I like.'

2. MARCH THE TENTH

On Saturday evening Graye hurried off to Casterbridge, and called at the
house of the reporter to the Chronicle. The reporter was at home, and
came out to Graye in the passage. Owen explained who and what he was,
and asked the man if he would oblige him by turning to his notes of
the inquest at Carriford in the December of the year preceding the
last--just adding that a family entanglement, of which the reporter
probably knew something, made him anxious to ascertain some additional
details of the event, if any existed.

'Certainly,' said the other, without hesitation; 'though I am afraid
I haven't much beyond what we printed at the time. Let me see--my old
note-books are in my drawer at the office of the paper: if you will
come with me I can refer to them there.' His wife and family were at tea
inside the room, and with the timidity of decent poverty everywhere he
seemed glad to get a stranger out of his domestic groove.

They crossed the street, entered the office, and went thence to an
inner room. Here, after a short search, was found the book required. The
precise address, not given in the condensed report that was printed, but
written down by the reporter, was as follows:--

'ABRAHAM BROWN,
LODGING-HOUSE KEEPER,
41 CHARLES SQUARE,
HOXTON.'

Owen copied it, and gave the reporter a small fee. 'I want to keep
this inquiry private for the present,' he said hesitatingly. 'You will
perhaps understand why, and oblige me.'

The reporter promised. 'News is shop with me,' he said, 'and to escape
from handling it is my greatest social enjoyment.'

It was evening, and the outer room of the publishing-office was lighted
up with flaring jets of gas. After making the above remark, the reporter
came out from the inner apartment in Graye's company, answering an
expression of obligation from Owen with the words that it was no
trouble. At the moment of his speech, he closed behind him the door
between the two rooms, still holding his note-book in his hand.

Before the counter of the front room stood a tall man, who was also
speaking, when they emerged. He said to the youth in attendance, 'I w