'
Reardon lingered a little after her departure, then left the
hospital and walked at a rapid pace in no particular direction.
Ah! if this had happened in the first year of his marriage, what
more blessed man than he would have walked the earth! But it came
after irreparable harm. No amount of wealth could undo the ruin
caused by poverty.
It was natural for him, as soon as he could think with
deliberation, to turn towards his only friend. But on calling at
the house in Clipstone Street he found the garret empty, and no
one could tell him when its occupant was likely to be back. He
left a note, and made his way back to Islington. The evening had
to be spent at the hospital, but on his return Biffen sat waiting
for him.
'You called about twelve, didn't you?' the visitor inquired.
'Half-past.'
'I was at the police-court. Odd thing--but it always happens so--
that I should have spoken of Sykes the other night. Last night I
came upon a crowd in Oxford Street, and the nucleus of it was no
other than Sykes himself very drunk and disorderly, in the grip
of two policemen.
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