All things now seemed very far away from her.

Her head sank gently forward, and she heard not the words of the man who frantically sought to awaken her to speech.
From the prison to London Pool was a journey of some distance across the streets of London.

Will Law called out to the driver with savagery in his voice.

He shouted, cursed, implored, promised, and betimes held one hand under the soft, heavy tresses of the head now sunk so humbly forward.
The mad ride ended at the quay on Thames side, where the shadows of the tall buildings lay rank and thick upon the earth, where tarry smells and evil odors filled the heavy air, penetrated none the less by the savor of the keen salt air.

More than one giant form was outlined in the broad stream, vessels tall and ghost-like in the gloom, shadowy, suggestive, bearing imprint and promise of far lands across the sea.
Here was the initial point of England's greatness.