She has been knocked down and trampled on."
"Who? Let me come! Can't I help? Could Rosamond?"
"No, no. It is a poor woman, brutally treated. No, I say, I'll
manage. It is a dreadful scene, don't."
But there was something in his tone which impelled Rosamond to open
the carriage door and spring out.
"Rose, I say it is no place for a lady. I can't answer for it to
Julius."
"I'll do that. Take me."
There was no withstanding her, and, after all, Raymond's tone
betrayed that he was thankful for her help, and knew that there was
no danger for her.
He had not many yards to lead her. The regions of thoughtless
gaiety were scarcely separated from the regions of undisguised evil,
and Raymond, on his way back from his friend, had fallen on a
horrible row, in which a toy-selling woman had been set upon, thrown
down and trodden on, and then dragged out by the police, bleeding
and senseless. When he brought Rosamond to the spot, she was lying
propped against a bundle, moaning a little, and guarded by a young
policeman, who looked perplexed and only equal to keeping back the
crowd, who otherwise, with better or worse purposes, would have
rushed back in the few minutes during which Mr.
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