But the
sounds of search in the closet recalled him to a sense of his position.
If his pursuers looked out at the door, they would see him at once. He
was creeping round to the other side of the chimney to cower in its
shadow, when a sudden bellow from the street apprized him that the
movement had discovered him to the crowd. Presently stones came flying
about the chimneys, and a busy little demon bounded into the house to
tell the ringleaders that he was on the roof. He therefore slid down
the slope away from the street, and passed on to the roof of the next
house, and thence to the third.
Arriving at a dingy dormer window, he found that it opened with ease,
admitting him into a little room crowded with dusty books and cobwebs.
He knew then that he was in the territorial outskirts of a certain
second-hand bookseller, with whom he had occasional dealings. He closed
the window, and sat down upon a pile of neglected volumes. The moon
shining through the clouded window revealed rows of books all about
him, of which he could not read even the names. But he was in no want
of the interest they might have afforded him. His thoughts turned to
Kate. She always behaved to him so that he felt both hurt and repelled,
and found it impossible to go to her so often as he would.
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