BOOK THE FOURTH: A TURNING
Chapter 12: The Passing Shadow (continued)
They alighted at last at the corner of a court, where there was a
building with a bright lamp and wicket gate. Its orderly
appearance was very unlike that of the surrounding neighbourhood,
and was explained by the inscription POLICE STATION.
'We are not going in here, John?' said Bella, clinging to him.
'Yes, my dear; but of our own accord. We shall come out again as
easily, never fear.'
The whitewashed room was pure white as of old, the methodical
book-keeping was in peaceful progress as of old, and some distant
howler was banging against a cell door as of old. The sanctuary
was not a permanent abiding-place, but a kind of criminal
Pickford's. The lower passions and vices were regularly ticked off
in the books, warehoused in the cells, carted away as per
accompanying invoice, and left little mark upon it.
Mr Inspector placed two chairs for his visitors, before the fire, and
communed in a low voice with a brother of his order (also of a
half-pay, and Royal Arms aspect), who, judged only by his
occupation at the moment, might have been a writing-master,
setting copies. Their conference done, Mr Inspector returned to the
fireplace, and, having observed that he would step round to the
Fellowships and see how matters stood, went out. He soon came
back again, saying, 'Nothing could be better, for they're at supper
with Miss Abbey in the bar;' and then they all three went out
together.
Still, as in a dream, Bella found herself entering a snug old-
fashioned public-house, and found herself smuggled into a little
three-cornered room nearly opposite the bar of that establishment.
Mr Inspector achieved the smuggling of herself and John into this
queer room, called Cosy in an inscription on the door, by entering
in the narrow passage first in order, and suddenly turning round
upon them with extended arms, as if they had been two sheep. The
room was lighted for their reception.
'Now,' said Mr Inspector to John, turning the gas lower; 'I'll mix
with 'em in a casual way, and when I say Identification, perhaps
you'll show yourself.'
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