to the pawnbroker's shop and say to him, "I am the
little girl in whose pocket you found that lovely diamond locket. I am
very sorry I hid from you so long, but now I have come back, and you can
send for the police. I will promise not to run away again when they are
taking me to prison."

This was Sue's resolve, but first she intended to do something else. It
was because of this something else that she lay awake now; it was
because of this almost passionate longing and desire that she lay with
her eyes wide open. She was going to put on her disguise once more; just
once again, before she was put in prison, she would wander free and
unrestrained into the streets. But she must do this very, very early in
the morning, and she feared that if she closed her eyes she would sleep
over the right time.

It was now March, and the days were lengthening. She rose before the
dawn, put on again some portion of the remarkable costume she had worn
the day before, and went out. Yes, she was going to prison. She was most
likely going to prison that very day. But before she was locked up she
would visit Harris's house. She would steal into his rooms to take one
look--one long last look for how many weary months--at Giles. She knew
the ways of this tenement house well. She had nothing to do but walk up
the stairs and lift the latch of Harris's room and go in. Some of the
neighbors locked their room doors at night. But Susan remembered with
satisfaction that Harris never did so. It was quite dark when she set
off, for she knew she had a very long walk from Great Anvill Street to
Westminster.

CHAPTER XXXII.

AN UNEXPECTED ACCIDENT.

By dint asking her way more than once, of some of the very policemen
whom she dreaded, Sue found herself at last in the old, well-remembered
neighborhood. She passed the door of the house where her mother had died
and where she had been so happy with Giles, and went on quickly to the
other house where Connie and Harris lived. The house door stood open, as
was its wont. Sue mounted the stairs; with trembling hands she lifted
the latch of Harris's room. Yes, as she had trusted, it was only on the
latch. She stooped down, unfastened her shoes, and took them off; then
she stole into the room. There were two bedrooms, besides a
sitting-room, in Harris's portion of the house. In one of the bedrooms
slept Harris, in the other his daughter, and in the little sitting-room
lay the lame boy. Thus Sue found h