 aimed at. In
visiting the theatre, she did not so much care to occupy a superior place -
indeed, such a position made her ill at ease - as to astonish her neighbours in
the pit by a lavish style of costume, by loud remarks implying a free command of
cash, by purchase between the acts of something expensive to eat or drink.
Needless to say that she never read anything but police news; in the fiction of
her world she found no charm, so sluggishly unimaginative was her nature. Till
of late she had either abandoned herself all day long to a brutal indolence,
eating rather too much, and finding quite sufficient occupation for her slow
brain in the thought of how pleasant it was not to be obliged to work, and
occasionally in reviewing the chances that she might eventually have plenty of
money and no Joseph Snowdon as a restraint upon her; or else, her physical
robustness demanding exercise, she walked considerable distances about the
localities she knew, calling now and then upon an acquaintance.
    Till of late; but a change had come upon her life. It was now seldom that
she kept the house all day; when within-doors she was restless, quarrelsome.
Joseph became aware with surprise that she no longer tried to conceal her enmity
against him; on a slight provocation she broke into a fierceness which reminded
him of the day when he undeceived her as to his position, and her look at such
times was murderous. It might come, he imagined, of her being released from the
prudent control of her mother. However, again a few weeks and things were
somewhat improved; she eyed him like a wild beast, but was less frequent in her
outbreaks. Here, too, it might be that Mrs. Peckover's influence was at work,
for Clara spent at least four evenings of the seven away from home, and always
said she had been at the Close. As indifferent as it was possible to be, Joseph
made no attempt to restrain her independence; indeed he was glad to have her out
of his way.
    We must follow her on one of these evenings os ensibly passed at Mrs.
Peckover's - no, not follow, but discover her at nine o'clock.
    In Old Street, not far from Shoreditch Station, was a shabby little place of
refreshment, kept by an Italian; pastry and sweet-stuff filled the window; at
the back of the shop, through a doorway on each side of which was looped a pink
curtain, a room, furnished with three marble-topped tables, invited those who
wished
