Josh Auk wants it before he'll let me
out a new one. Tomorrow's horl right for me."
"Well, I expect we'll manage that," Brooks remarked. "Now where are the
urgent cases?"
One by one they were elbowed forward. Brooks' pen flew across the
paper. It was midnight even then before they had finished. Brooks and
Mary Scott left together. They were both too exhausted for words.
As they crossed the street Mary suddenly touched his arm.
"Look!" she whispered.
A girl was leaning up against the wall, her face buried in her hands,
sobbing bitterly. They both watched her for a moment. It was Amy
Hardinge.
"I will go and speak to her," Mary whispered.
Brooks drew her away.
"Not one word, even of advice," he said. "Let us keep to our
principles. The end will be surer."
They turned the corner of the street. Above the shouting of an angry
woman and the crazy song of a drunken man the girl's sobs still lingered
in their ears.
CHAPTER VIII
MR. BULLSOM IS STAGGERED
Mr. Bullsom looked up from his letters With an air of satisfaction.
"Company to dinner, Mrs.
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