CHAPTER IV.
THE WOLF AT HOME.
There is a certain music-hall, in a certain street, leading out of a certain road, and this is quite clear and definite enough.

Its distinctive characteristics, above any of its fellows, is a vulgarity so profound, that the connoisseur or student in that branch of mental culture thinks that here at last he has reached the lowest depths.

For this reason one shrinks from actually naming it, because it might become fashionable, and then, if it fondly tried to change its character to suit its changed audience, it might entirely lose its present charm, and become simply commonplace.
Joe Gallop stood in the doorway of this hall, a few days after the Tempting of Mr.James.It was about ten o'clock, when the entertainments were in full blast.

He had a cigarette between his lips, as becomes a young man of fashion, but it had gone out, and he was thinking of something.

To judge from the cunning look in his eyes, it was something not immediately connected with the good of his fellow-creatures.