autumn in there," and he went in at
the Victoria gate, with Eve at his heels.

"Mister, how old might you be?" she asked, encouraged by the sound of
his voice.

"Thirty."

"And you've passed ten years in--in there." She jerked her head back
and shivered a little.

He had stooped to pick up a leaf. It was a yellow leaf from a
chestnut that reached into the fog above them. He picked it slowly
to pieces, drawing full draughts of air into his lungs. "Fifteen,"
he jerked out, "one time and another. 'Cumulated, you know."
Pausing, he added, in a matter-of-fact voice, "What I've took would
come to less'n a pound's worth, altogether."

The Gardens were deserted, and the pair roamed towards the centre,
gazing curiously at so much of sodden vegetation as the fog allowed
them to see. Their eyes were not jaded; to them a blade of grass was
not a little thing.

They were down on the south side, amid the heterogeneous plants there
collected, examining each leaf, spelling the Latin labels and
comparing them, when the hour came for closing. In the dense
atmosphere the park-keeper missed them. The gates were shut; and the
fog settled down thicker with the darkness.

Then the man and the woman were aware, and grew afraid. They saw
only a limitless plain of grey about them, and heard a murmur as of
the sea rolling around it.

"This gaol is too big," whispered Eve, and they took hands. The man
trembled. Together they moved into the fog, seeking an outlet.

At the end of an hour or so they stumbled on a seat, and sat down for
awhile to share the bread and sausage, and drink the gin. Eve was
tired out and would have slept, but the man shook her by the
shoulder.

"For God's sake don't leave me to face this alone. Can you sing?"

She began "_When other lips_ . . ." in a whisper which gradually
developed into a reedy soprano. She had forgotten half the words,
but Adam lit a pipe and listened appreciatively.

"Tell you what," he said at the close; "you'll be able to pick up a
little on the road with your singing. We'll tramp west to-morrow,
and pass ourselves off for man and wife. Likely we'll get some farm
work, down in the country. Let's get out of this."

They joined hands and started off again, unable to see a foot before
them in the blackness. So it happened next morning that the
park-keeper, coming at his usual hour to unlock the gates, found a
man and a woman inside with their white faces pressed aga