It seemed a fearful depth down to the roadway. Even if she had a rope it
was doubtful if she could lower herself. Besides, rarely at any hour
even at night was the Old Bailey free from traffic. She would have to
think of some other way.

She crept along the gutter in front of the next house. Dirty curtains
hung at windows. There was no danger of her being seen even if the room
had any occupants. She crawled onward, feeling she was a sort of Jack
Sheppard whose daring escapes were still being talked about.

At the next window Lavinia hesitated and stopped. This window had no
curtains. The grime of many months, maybe of years, obscured the glass.
One of the small panes was broken. Gathering courage she craned her head
and looked through the opening. The room was empty. The paper on the
walls hung in strips. There was a little hole in the ceiling through
which the daylight streamed.

If the house should, like the room, be empty! The possibility opened up
all kinds of speculation in Lavinia's active brain. Why not explore the
premises? Up till now she had forgotten her lost shoe. To pursue her
investigations unsuitably dressed as she was would be absurd. Supposing
she had a chance of escaping into the street she must be properly
garbed.

She did not give herself time to think but hastened back to Hannah's
room. She tried on all the shoes she could find. One pair was smaller
than the rest. She put on that for the left foot. It was a little too
large but near enough. Then she hurried on her hooded cloak and once
more tackled the gutter. She was able to reach the window catch by
putting her hand through the aperture in the broken pane. In a minute or