He went from the post-office to his lodgings with his mind in a tumult of excitement, made a mere pretence of taking a hasty dinner, and set off immediately afterwards for Wardour Street.
There was more than time for him to walk, and he hoped that the walk might have some effect in reducing the fever of his mind.

He did not want to present himself before strangers--who, no doubt, only wanted to make a barter of any knowledge they possessed as to Marian's whereabouts--in a state of mental excitement.

The address to which he was going mystified him beyond measure.

What could people living in such a place as this know of her whom he sought?
He was in Wardour Street at a quarter before seven, but he had considerable trouble in finding Queen Anne's Court, and the clocks of the neighbourhood were striking the hour as he turned into a narrow alley with dingy-looking shops on one side and a high dead wall on the other.
The gas was glimmering faintly in the window of No.

5, and a good deal of old silver, tarnished and blackened, huddled together behind the wire-guarded glass, was dimly visible in the uncertain light.