So she clad herself in walking attire
of a kind not likely to attract observation, and set forth. The
tumult which had been in her blood all day received fresh impulse
from the excitement of the adventure. She had veiled her face, but
the veil hindered her observation, and she threw it back. First into
Edgware Road, then down Oxford Street. Her thoughts pointed to an
eastern district, though she feared the distance would be too great;
she had frequently talked with Waymark of his work in Litany Lane
and Elm Court, and a great curiosity possessed her to see these
places. She entered an omnibus, and so reached the remote
neighbourhood. Here, by inquiry of likely people, she found her way
to Litany Lane, and would have penetrated its darkness, but was
arrested by a sudden event characteristic of the locality.
Forth from the alley, just before her, rushed a woman of hideous
aspect, pursued by another, younger, but, if possible, yet more
foul, who shrieked curses and threats. In the way of the fugitive
was a costermonger's stall; unable to check herself, the woman
rushed against this, overturning it, and herself falling among the
ruin. The one in pursuit, with a yell of triumph, sprang upon her
prostrate enemy, and attacked her with fearful violence, leaping on
her body, dashing her head against the pavement, seemingly bent on
murder.
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