Poor Mr. Lipscombe! The neglected 'Three Pigeons' was just now the
worst place in all Water Lane. The little that had hastily been
done since the morning seemed to have had no effect on the foetid
atmosphere, even to Herbert's well accustomed nostrils; and what
must it have been to a stranger, in spite of the open window and all
the disinfectants? And, alas! the man had sunk into a sleep.
Julius, who still stood by him, had heard all he had to say to
relieve his mind, all quite rationally, and had been trying to show
him the need of making reparation by repeating all to a magistrate,
when the drowsiness had fallen on him; and though the sound of feet
roused him, it was to wander into the habitual defiance of
authority, merging into terror.
Herbert soothed him better than any one else could do, and he fell
asleep again; but Mr. Lipscombe declared it was of no use to remain--
nothing but madness; and they could not gainsay him. He left the
two clergymen together, feeling himself to have done a very valiant
and useless thing in the interests of justice, or at the importunity
of a foolishly zealous young curate.
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