Oxford Street seemed as far off
as ever; it was with deep relief that the dripping man caught sight of a
dark archway which seemed to promise shelter from the rain if not from
the wind. Salisbury took up his position in the driest corner and looked
about him; he was standing in a kind of passage contrived under part of
a house, and behind him stretched a narrow footway leading between blank
walls to regions unknown. He had stood there for some time, vainly
endeavouring to rid himself of some of his superfluous moisture, and
listening for the passing wheel of a hansom, when his attention was
aroused by a loud noise coming from the direction of the passage behind,
and growing louder as it drew nearer. In a couple of minutes he could
make out the shrill, raucous voice of a woman, threatening and
renouncing, and making the very stones echo with her accents, while now
and then a man grumbled and expostulated. Though to all appearance
devoid of romance, Salisbury had some relish for street rows, and was,
indeed, somewhat of an amateur in the more amusing phases of
drunkenness; he therefore composed himself to listen and observe with
something of the air of a subscriber to grand opera. To his annoyance,
however, the tempest seemed suddenly to be composed, and he could hear
nothing but the impatient steps of the woman and the slow lurch of the
man as they came towards him. Keeping back in the shadow of the wall, he
could see the two drawing nearer; the man was evidently drunk, and had
much ado to avoid frequent collision with the wall as he tacked across
from one side to the other, like some bark beating up against a wind.
The woman was looking straight in front of her, with tears streaming
from her eyes, but suddenly as they went by the flame blazed up again,
and she burst forth into a torrent of abuse, facing round upon her
companion.

'You low rascal, you mean, contemptible cur,' she went on, after an
incoherent storm of curses, 'you think I'm to work and slave for you
always, I suppose, while you're after that Green Street girl and
drinking every penny you've got? But you're mistaken, Sam--indeed, I'll
bear it no longer. Damn you, you dirty thief, I've done with you and
your master too, so you can go your own errands, and I only hope they'll
get you into trouble.'

The woman tore at the bosom of her dress, and taking something out that
looked like paper, crumpled it up and flung it away. It fell at
Salisbury's feet. She