There is no doubt at all that Anthony was growing quite accustomed to the liberal atmosphere of Lincoln's Inn Fields. As he bent his steps westward, he found the huge square admirable. For comfortable dignity, no other square he could remember compared with it. This, he decided, was because its sides were not too high for its area. London, as a whole, had grown up. Had she grown outward instead, perhaps... He remembered suddenly that she had grown outward as well--out of all conscience, since Pepys had taken pleasure in Lincoln's Inn Fields. With a contented sigh Lyveden reflected that by nine-thirty that evening he would be back at Bell Hammer. The sweet smell of the country, the song of the wind in tree-tops--above all, the abundance of cool soft air, seemed to have become essential to his life. For the present, at any rate, he had no use for Town. It choked him. He was glad, however, that his solicitor's office was in Lincoln's Inn Fields.... Some clock announced the hour--a quarter to four. The ex-officer quickened his pace. Savile Row had to be visited, and Pall Mall. Most important of all, a coupe had to be proved.... Anthony's heart beat faster. The car was for Valerie. As he left Kingsway behind, the gross belch of an 'Alarum' demanded passage. Anthony fell to wondering whether his sweet would not prefer some other usher. An 'Alarum' got there, of course; but it was Rabelaisian. Perhaps ... The sound of a collision between two pedestrians disturbed his musing. It was nothing. Chin on shoulder, an errand-boy had collided with a man in a silk hat. Anthony was so close to the latter he could have touched him. The boy muttered an apology, and the man laughed. "My fault as much as yours," he said lazily, and passed on. It was Dr. Heron. Anthony reeled against the wall. Observing his movement, two typists squeaked with pretended alarm, and then, giving him a wide berth, lurched on, convulsed with mirth and clutching one another. To the poor woman who approached him and asked if he were ill, Anthony at first said nothing at all. Then he replied dazedly that he was "all right," and moved uncertainly away. Arrived at the corner of Drury Lane, he hesitated, looking round helplessly, as if he were not sure of his way. Immediately opposite, a large efficient-looking ironmonger's shop presented a plain, well-kept, _familiar_ face.... Anthony stared at it with a dropped jaw. The errand-boy, who had found his demeanour promising, and had been loitering in the hope of developments, took up a good position in the gutter and fairly drank Lyveden in. Almost at once another of his species joined him. After a prolonged stare-- "Wot's 'e doin' of?" said the new-comer. "Sayin' 'is prares?" The other sniggered. The noise aroused Anthony. With an effort he straightened himself.... Then he walked unsteadily across the street and into the shop. The manager came forward. "Have those mattocks come in?"