’ She moved quickly to the nearest bookcase, and listened intently to the sound of Jack’s voice. The visitor was the hotel manager, who respectfully announced that the doctor was ready for her. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. The baby boy was delivered in a sea of black blood, born dead and blue, and strangled by plague. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. ‘s as mad as any of you, in spite of all his respectability; not a bit of him straight anywhere, not one bit.
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