The night was pitch-dark; the sheet-lightning blazed across the blackness, and now and then a big drop fell.

Still the girl sped on until she reached her destination.
It was the poorest and vilest quarter of the great city--among reeking smells, and horrible sounds, and disgusting sights.

The house she entered was tottering to decay--a dreadful den by day and by night, thronged with the very scum of the London streets.

Up and up a long stair-way she flew, paused at a door on the third landing, opened it, and went in.
It was a miserable room--all one could have expected from the street and the house.

There was a black grate, one or two broken chairs, a battered table, and a wretched bed in the corner.