It was very cold.  She had no gloves on, and her hands were getting quite numb.  Would Mr. Poole answer the summons?  If not, Luke would, she supposed, remain in the cell all night.  It would be cold enough there, poor fellow!

She had waited about twenty minutes, when a large-headed man in a big overcoat came up, and, after eyeing the edifice from roof to pavement, ascended the steps and entered.

‘I shouldn’t wonder if that’s him,’ murmured Totty.  And she waited anxiously.

In a quarter of an hour, the man appeared again, and after him came —­oh yes, it was Luke!  He had his eyes on the ground.  The rescuer put his arm in Luke’s, and they walked off together.

He had not seen her, and she was disappointed.  She followed at a short distance behind them.  The large-headed man spoke occasionally, but Ackroyd seemed to make brief reply, if any.  Their way took them along Walnut Tree Walk; Totty saw that, in passing the house where Lydia and Thyrza lived, Luke cast a glance at the upper windows; probably he knew nothing of Thyrza’s absence at Eastbourne.  They turned into Lambeth Walk, then again into Paradise Street, Totty still a little distance in the rear.  At their house, they paused.  Luke seemed to be going further on, and, to the girl’s surprise, he did so, whilst Mr. Poole entered.

He turned to the left, this time into Newport Street.  Totty felt a strange tightness at her chest, for all at once she guessed what his purpose was.

It was still only half-past ten; people were moving about.  Newport Street has only one inhabited side; the other is formed by the railway viaduct, the arches of which are boarded up and made to serve for stables, warehouses, workshops.  Moreover, the thoroughfare is very badly lighted; on the railway side one can walk along at night-time without risk of recognition.  Totty availed herself of this gloom, and kept nearly opposite to Luke.  He stopped before her house, hesitated, was about to approach the door.  Then Totty—­no stranger being near—­called softly across the street: 

‘Mr. Ackroyd!’

He turned at once, and came over.

‘Why, is that you?’ he said.  ‘What are you doing there, Totty?’

‘Oh, nothing.  So they’ve let you go?’

She spoke indifferently.  It had been on her tongue to say that she had followed from the police-station, but the other words came instead.

‘I shall have to turn up on Monday morning,’ Luke replied.

‘What a shame!  Did they keep that man?’

’Yes.  They kept us both.  He kept swearing I’d an old grudge against him, and that he’d done nothing at all.  The blackguard had the impudence to charge me with assault; so I charged him too.  Then that constable said he’d had us both in charge before for drunk and disorderly.  Altogether, it wasn’t a bad lying-match.’

‘Why do you run the chance of getting into such rows?’