It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. He would know her address to-morrow. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. Should be home soon. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. ‘You do not think it is enough English.
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