'You make a great mistake, as you
always do when you pretend to know anything about me. Wait till I've
learned a little about the business; you won't find me in Upper
Street then.'
'I understand.'
Again they walked on in silence. They were nearing Clerkenwell
Close, and had to pass a corner of the prison in a dark lane, where
the wind moaned drearily. The line of the high blank wall was
relieved in colourless gloom against a sky of sheer night. Opposite,
the shapes of poverty-eaten houses and grimy workshops stood
huddling in the obscurity. From near at hand came shrill voices of
children chasing each other about--children playing at midnight
between slum and gaol!
'We're not likely to see much of each other after to-night,' said
Sidney, stopping.
'The less the better, I should say, if this is how you're going to
talk to me.'
'The less the better, perhaps--at all events for a time. But
there's one or two things on my mind, and I'll say them now. I don't
know whether you think anything about it, but you must have seen
that things are getting worse and worse at home. Your mother--'
'She's no mother of mine!' broke in Clara angrily.
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