It was harrowing to see her torn by anxiety for her father, and I yearned to comfort her.

But what was there to say?
Mr.Bellingham was breaking up visibly under the stress of the terrible menace that hung over his daughter, and no words of mine could make the fact less manifest.
We walked silently up the court.

The lady at the window greeted us with a smiling salutation, Mr.Finneymore removed his pipe and raised his cap, receiving a gracious bow from Ruth in return, and then we passed through the covered way into Fetter Lane, where my companion paused and looked about her.
"What are you looking for ?" I asked.
"The detective," she answered quietly.

"It would be a pity if the poor man should miss me after waiting so long.

However, I don't see him"; and she turned away towards Fleet Street.