till　find　him。
  Before　going　in；　he　stood　full　five　minutes　leaning　on　the　terrace　parapet　before　his　house；　gazing　at　the　star…frosted　sky；　and　the　river　cut　by　the　trees　into　black　pools；　oiled　over　by　gleams　from　the　Embankment　lamps。　　And；　deep　down；　behind　his　mere　thoughts；　he　ached…somehow；　somewhere　ached。　　Beyond　the　cage　of　all　that　he　saw　and　heard　and　thought；　he　had　perceived　something　he　could　not　reach。　But　the　night　was　cold；　the　bells　silent；　for　it　had　struck　twelve。　Entering　his　house；　he　stole　upstairs。
  VII
  If　for　Keith　those　six　weeks　before　the　Glove　Lane　murder　trial　came　on　were　fraught　with　uneasiness　and　gloom；　they　were　for　Laurence　almost　the　happiest　since　his　youth。　　From　the　moment　when　he　left　his　rooms　and　went　to　the　girl's　to　live；　a　kind　of　peace　and　exaltation　took　possession　of　him。　　Not　by　any　effort　of　will　did　he　throw　off　the　nightmare　hanging　over　him。　　Nor　was　he　drugged　by　love。　　He　was　in　a　sort　of　spiritual　catalepsy。　　In　face　of　fate　too　powerful　for　his　will；　his　turmoil；　anxiety；　and　even　restlessness　had　ceased；　his　life　floated　in　the　ether　of　〃what　must　come；　will。〃　Out　of　this　catalepsy；　his　spirit　sometimes　fell　headlong　into　black　waters。　　In　one　such　whirlpool　he　was　struggling　on　the　night　of　Christmas　Eve。　　When　the　girl　rose　from　her　knees　he　asked　her：
  〃What　did　you　see？〃
  Pressing　close　to　him；　she　drew　him　down　on　to　the　floor　before　the　fire；　and　they　sat；　knees　drawn　up；　hands　clasped；　like　two　children　trying　to　see　over　the　edge　of　the　world。
  〃It　was　the　Virgin　I　saw。　　She　stood　against　the　wall　and　smiled。　　We　shall　be　happy　soon。〃
  〃When　we　die；　Wanda；〃　he　said；　suddenly；　〃let　it　be　together。　　We　shall　keep　each　other　warm；　out　there。〃
  Huddling　to　him　she　whispered：　〃Yes；　oh；　yes！　　If　you　die；　I　could　not　go　on　living。〃
  It　was　this　utter　dependence　on　him；　the　feeling　that　he　had　rescued　something；　which　gave　him　sense　of　anchorage。　　That；　and　his　buried　life　in　the　retreat　of　these　two　rooms。　　Just　for　an　hour　in　the　morning；　from　nine　to　ten；　the　charwoman　would　come；　but　not　another　soul　all　day。　　They　never　went　out　together。　　He　would　stay　in　bed　late；　while　Wanda　bought　what　they　needed　for　the　day's　meals；　lying　on　his　back；　hands　clasped　behind　his　head；　recalling　her　face；　the　movements　of　her　slim；　rounded；　supple　figure；　robing　itself　before　his　gaze；　feeling　again　the　kiss　she　had　left　on　his　lips；　the　gleam　of　her　soft　eyes；　so　strangely　dark　in　so　fair　a　face。　　In　a　sort　of　trance　he　would　lie　till　she　came　back。　　Then　get　up　to　breakfast　about　noon　off　things　which　she　had　cooked；　drinking　coffee。　　In　the　afternoon　he　would　go　out　alone　and　walk　for　hours；　any　where；　so　long　as　it　was　East。　　To　the　East　there　was　always　suffering　to　be　seen；　always　that　which　soothed　him　with　the　feeling　that　he　and　his　troubles　were　only　a　tiny　part　of　trouble；　that　while　so　many　other　sorrowing　and　shadowy　creatures　lived　he　was　not　cut　off。　　To　go　West　was　to　encourage　dejection。　　In　the　West　all　was　like　Keith；　successful；　immaculate；　ordered；　resolute。　　He　would　come　back　tired　out；　and　sit　watching　her　cook　their　little　dinner。　　The　evenings　were　given　up　to　love。　　Queer　trance　of　an　existence；　which　both　were　afraid　to　break。　　No　sign　from　her　of　wanting　those　excitements　which　girls　who　have　lived　her　life；　even　for　a　few　months；　are　supposed　to　need。　　She　never　asked　him　to　take　her　anywhere；　never；　in　word；　deed；　look；　seemed　anything　but　almost　rapturously　content。　　And　yet　he　knew；　and　she　knew；　that　they　were　only　waiting　to　see　whether　Fate　would　turn　her　thumb　down　on　them。　　In　these　days　he　did　not　drink。　　Out　of　his　quarter's　money；　when　it　came　in；　he　had　paid　his　debtstheir　expenses　were　very　small。　　He　never　went　to　see　Keith；　never　wrote　to　him；　hardly　thought　of　him。　　And　from　those　dread　apparitionsWalenn　lying　with　the　breath　choked　out　of　him；　and　the　little　grey；　driven　animal　in　the　dockhe　hid；　as　only　a　man　can　who　must　hide　or　be　destroyed。　　But　daily　he　bought　a　newspaper；　and　feverishly；　furtively　scanned　its　columns。
  VIII
  Coming　out　of　the　Law　Courts　on　the　afternoon　of　January　28th；　at　the　triumphant　end　of　a　desperately　fought　will　case；　Keith　saw　on　a　poster　the　words：　〃Glove　Lane　Murder：　Trial　and　Verdict〃；　and　with　a　rush　of　dismay　he　thought：　'Good　God！　　I　never　looked　at　the　paper　this　morning！'　　The　elation　which　had　filled　him　a　second　before；　the　absorption　he　had　felt　for　two　days　now　in　the　case　so　hardly　won；　seemed　suddenly　quite　sickeningly　trivial。　　What　on　earth　had　he　been　doing　to　forget　that　horrible　business　even　for　an　instant？　　He　stood　quite　still　on　the　crowded　pavement；　unable；　really　unable；　to　buy　a　paper。　　But　his　face　was　like　a　piece　of　iron　when　he　did　step　forward　and　hold　his　penny　out。　　There　it　was　in　the　Stop　Press！　〃Glove　Lane　Murder。　　The　jury　returned　a　verdict　of　Guilty。　　Sentence　of　death　was　passed。〃
  His　first　sensation　was　simple　irritation。　　How　had　they　come　to　commit　such　an　imbecility？　　Monstrous！　　The　evidence！　　Then　the　futility　of　even　reading　the　report；　of　even　considering　how　they　had　come　to　record　such　a　verdict　struck　him　with　savage　suddenness。　There　it　was；　and　nothing　he　could　do　or　say　would　alter　it；　no　condemnation　of　this　idiotic　verdict　would　help　reverse　it。　　The　situation　was　desperate；　indeed！　　That　five　minutes'　walk　from　the　Law　Courts　to　his　chambers　was　the　longest　he　had　ever　taken。
  Men　of　decided　character　little　know　beforehand　what　they　will　do　in　certain　contingencies。　　For　the　imaginations　of　decided　people　do　not　endow　mere　contingencies　with　sufficient　actuality。　　Keith　had　never　really　settled　what　he　was　going　to　do　if　this　man　were　condemned。　Often　in　those　past　weeks　he　had　said　to　himself：　〃Of　course；　if　they　bring　him　in　guilty；　that's　another　thing！〃　　But；　now　that　they　had；　he　was　beset　by　exactly　the　same　old　arguments　and　feelings；　the　same　instincts　of　loyalty　and　protection　towards　Laurence　and　himself；　intensified　by　the　fearful　imminence　of　the　danger。　　And　yet；　here　was　this　man　about　to　be　hung　for　a　thing　he　had　not　done！　　Nothing　could　get　over　that！　　But　then　he　was　such　a　worthless　vagabond；　a　ghoul　who　had　robbed　a　dead　body。　　If　Larry　were　condemned　in　his　stead；　would　there　be　any　less　miscarriage　of　justice？　　To　strangle　a　brute　who　had　struck　you；　by　the　accident　of　keeping　your　hands　on　his　throat　a　few　seconds　too　long；　was　there　any　more　guilt　in　that　was　there　even　as　much；　as　in　deliberate　theft　from　a　dead　man？　Reverence　for　order；　for　justice；　and　established　fact；　will；　often　march　shoulder　to　shoulder　with　Jesuitry　in　natures　to　whom　success　is　vital。
  In　the　narrow　stone　passage　leading　to　his　staircase；　a　friend　had　called　out：　〃Bravo；　Darrant！　　That　was　a　squeak！　　Congratulations！〃　And　with　a　bitter　little　smile　Keith　thought：　'Congratulations！　　I！'
  At　the　first　possible　moment　the　hurried　back　to　the　Strand；　and　hailing　a　cab；　he　told　the　man　to　put　him　down　at　a　turning　near　to　Borrow　Street。
  It　was　the　girl　who　opened　to　his　knock。　　Startled；　clasping　her　hands；　she　looked　strange　to　Keith　in　her　black　skirt　and　blouse　of　some　soft　velvety　stuff　the　colour　of　faded　roses。　　Her　round；　rather　long　throat　was　bare；　and　Keith　noticed　fretfully　that　she　wore　gold　earrings。　　Her　eyes；　so　pitch　dark　against　her　white　face；　and　the　short　fair　hair；　which　curled　into　her　neck；　seemed　both　to　search　and　to　plead。
  〃My　brother？〃
  〃He　is　not　in；　sir；　yet。〃
  〃Do　you　know　where　he　is？〃
  〃No。〃
  〃He　is　living　with　you　here　now？〃
  〃Yes。〃
  〃Are　you　still　as　fond　of　him　as　ever；　then？〃
  With　a　movement；　as　though　she　despaired　of　words；　she　clasped　her　hands　over　her　heart。　　And　he　said：
  〃I　see。〃
  He　had　the　same　strange　feeling　as　on　his　first　visit　to　her；　and　when　through　the　chink　in　the　curtains　he　had　watched　her　kneeling　of　pity　mingled　with　some　faint　sexual　emotion。　　And　crossing　to　the　fire　he　asked：
  〃May　I　wait　for　him？〃
  〃Oh！　　Please！　　Will　you　sit　down？〃
  But　Keith　shook　his　head。　　And　with　a　catch　in　her　breath；　she　said：
  〃You　will　not　take　him　from　me。　　I　should　die。〃
  He　turned　round　on　her　sharply。
  〃I　don't　want　him　taken　from　you。　　I　want　to　help　you　keep　him。　　Are　you　ready　to　go　away；　at　any　time？〃
  〃Yes。　　Oh；　yes！〃
  〃And　he？〃
  She　answered　almost　in　a　whisper：
  〃Yes；　but　there　is　that　poor　man。〃
  〃That　poor　man　is　a　graveyard　thief；　a　hyena；　a　ghoulnot　worth　consideration。〃　　And　the　rasp　in　his　own　voice　surprised　him。
  〃Ah！〃　she　sighed。　　〃But　I　am　sorry　for　him。　　Perhaps　he　was　hungry。　I　have　been　hungryyou　do　things　then　that　you　would　not。　　And　perhaps　he　has　no　one　to　love；　if　you　have　no　one　to　love　you　can　be　very　bad。　　I　think　of　him　oftenin　prison。〃
  Between　his　teeth　Keith　muttered：　〃And　Laurence？〃
  〃We　do　never　speak　of　it；　we　are　afraid。〃
  〃He's　not　told　you；　then；　about　the　trial？〃
  Her　eyes　dilated。
  〃The　trial！　　Oh！　　He　was　strange　last　night。　　This　morning；　too；　he　got　up　early。　　Is　it…is　it　over？〃
  〃Yes。〃
  〃What　has　come？〃
  〃Guilty。〃
  For　a　moment　Keith　thought　she　was　going　to　faint。　　She　had　closed　her　eyes；　and　swayed　so　that　he　took　a　step；　and　put　his　hands　on　her　arms。
  〃Listen！