There was no one stirring in the flats. The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. The doctor reached over and laid his hand upon Spurlock's heart. At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. ‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly.
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