The train deposited Nora at Paddington. Had she known her way about she would have left her trunk in the cloak-room, and crossed London by one of half-a-dozen different routes, for a few coppers; when she had found lodgings the box would have been delivered at her address for a few more coppers. What she did do was to charter a four-wheeler. It is some distance from Paddington to Newington Butts; to Nora, an unaccustomed traveller, already tired with her journey, hungry and thirsty, the way seemed interminable. She began to wonder if the driver quite knew where he was going; he seemed to go on and on and never get there. At last, a little desperate, she put her head out of the window and asked him-- "Are you sure this is the right way?" The cab stopped. The driver screwed himself round in his seat, and he observed, in the tone of one who is offended-- "You said Newington Butts, didn't you?" "Yes." Hers was the voice of deprecation. "Very well then; I'm driving you to Newington Butts. If you think you know the way better than I do you can come outside and I'll get inside. I've been driving this cab two and twenty years, and if there's any one who knows the way to Newington Butts better than I do, I should like to know who it is." She drew her head back and subsided on the seat, doubting no longer. She felt that a man who had been a cabman for two and twenty years ought to know the way to Newington Butts better than she did. The cab went on. There was another period of seemingly interminable jolting; it seemed likely that the springs had been on that cab as long as the driver had. Once more the vehicle stopped. This time the driver asked a question. "What address?" As Nora put her head out again hers was the tone of anxiety. "Is this Newington Butts?" "It used to be when I was here last, but perhaps it's been and gone and turned itself into something else since; you might ask a policeman if you think it has been up to any game of the kind. There's one standing over there; I'll call him if you like; he might know." "Thank you; I--I don't think I'll trouble you. The fact is I want lodgings; do you know of any round here?" "Lodgings? I shouldn't have thought there was any round here to suit you." "Oh, I'm so sorry; why not?" "There's about two hundred thousand, I dare say, so perhaps one of them might suit. Anyhow, I'll show you a few samples. Only, mind you, I'm not engaged by the hour, nor yet by the week." When next the cab stopped the main thoroughfare had been left behind, and they were in a street of private houses. "Here you are; here's a street pretty nearly full of them; all you've got to do is pick and choose."