‘Very well, arrest me. " "What's the meaning of all this?" demanded Sir Cecil. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. “Call me Cathy, John. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. She sat with him in the courtyard after serving him 20 spiced wine.
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