But now, when I was so lonely, for even those who called themselves my friends had fallen away from me in the time of trial, I felt drawn towards the helpless little thing.
I kissed it and put it back into its cradle, and was about to leave the room when the nurse, a respectable widow woman with a motherly air, asked me straight out what were my wishes about the child and by what name it was to be baptised, seeing that when I was in jail she might not be able to ascertain them.

The good woman's question made me wince, but, recognising that in view of eventualities these matters must be arranged, I took a sheet of paper and wrote down my instructions, which were briefly that the child should be named Emma Jane after its mother and mine, and that the nurse, Mrs.Baker, should take it to her cottage, and be paid a weekly sum for its maintenance.
Having settled these disagreeable details I went downstairs, but not to the dinner that was waiting for me, as after the nurse's questions I did not feel equal to facing the other domestics.

Leaving the house I walked about the streets seeking some small eating-place where I could dine without being recognised.

As I wandered along wearily I heard a harsh voice behind me calling me by name, and, turning, found that the speaker was Mr.Stephen Strong.

Even in the twilight there was no possibility of mistaking his flaming red tie.
"You are worried and tired, doctor," said the harsh voice.