erectness.

"Ah, well," she said, "I am very tired, Dick; and, do you know, it
occurs to me I have had nothing to eat since yesterday afternoon. I
wonder can we get away from these men, anywhere?"

The streets between Victoria and Hyde Park were lined by German cavalry
men, who sat motionless on their chargers, erect and soldierly, but, in
many cases, fast asleep.

We began to walk eastward, looking for some place in which we could rest
and eat. But every place seemed to be closed.

"How long have you been on your feet?" said Constance, as we passed the
Law Courts.

"Only since Thursday evening," I said. "I had a long rest in that cart,
you remember--the one I brought the lint and bandages in."

Just then we passed a tailor's shop-window, and, in a long, narrow strip
of mirror I caught a full-length reflection of myself. I positively
turned swiftly to see who could have cast that reflection. Four days
without shaving and without a change of collar; two days without even
washing my hands or face; four days without undressing, and eight hours'
work beside the North London entrenchments--these experiences had made a
wild-looking savage of me, and, until that moment, I had never thought
of my appearance.

Smoke, earth, and blood had worked their will upon me. My left hand,
from which two fingers were missing, was swathed in blackened bandages.
My right coat-sleeve had been cut off by a good-natured fellow who had
bandaged the flesh wound in my arm to stop its bleeding. My eyes glinted
dully in a black face, with curious white fringes round them, where
their moisture had penetrated my skin of smoked dirt. And here was I
walking beside Constance Grey!

Then I realized, for the first time, that Constance herself bore many
traces of these last few terrible days. In some mysterious fashion her
face and collar seemed to have escaped scot free; but her dress was
torn, ragged, and stained; and the intense weariness of her expression
was something I found it hard to bear.

Just then we met Wardle of the _Sunday News_, and he told us of the
bread and soup distribution in the _Standard_ office. Something warned
me that Constance had reached the limit of her endurance, and, in
another moment, she had reeled against me and almost fallen. I took her
in my arms, and Wardle walked beside me, up a flight of stairs and into
the office of the great newspaper. There I walked into the first room I
saw--the sanctum of some managerial