If it had not been for the absurdity of altering her plans on his account she would have postponed her visit to the steward until another day.
The walk to Fullalove Alley was all too short for Jem Hardy.

Miss Nugent stepped along with the air of a martyr anxious to get to the stake and have it over, and she answered in monosyllables when her companion pointed out the beauties of the night.
A bitter east wind blew up the road and set her yearning for the joys of Mr.Wilks's best room.

"It's very cold," she said, shivering.
Hardy assented, and reluctantly quickened his pace to keep step with hers.

Miss Nugent with her chin sunk in a fur boa looked neither to the right nor the left, and turning briskly into the alley, turned the handle of Mr.Wilks's door and walked in, leaving her companion to follow.
The steward, who was smoking a long pipe over the fire, looked round in alarm.

Then his expression changed, and he rose and stammered out a welcome.