One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. Maggot. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. I have made up my mind to insist upon moving from here into Park Lane, or one of the Squares. ” “Don’t worry yourself. ” Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger.
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