Entering London, he bent his way towards the west-end; and having some knowledge of a secondhand tailor's shop in Rupert Street, proceeded thither, and looked out a handsome suit of mourning, with a sword, cloak, and hat, and demanded the price. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. A time may come,—and that ere long,—when you will be glad to purchase my secrets, and your own safety, at a dearer price than the heads of your companions. He was always anticipating, stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent troubles.
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