May 27, 2025 • 18 mins
Get entranced with The Hemlock Avenue Mystery, a thrilling piece from the mystery series penned by Lily Augusta Long under the alias Roman Doubleday. A lawyer finds himself in the thick of a murder accusation, having allegedly killed a legal adversary. Amidst the tumult, a persistent newspaper reporter decides to delve into the mysterious case. Complicating the plot are two women under suspicion, and another seemingly oblivious to the crime. With limited clues at his disposal, the reporter transitions into a detective, unwinding one enigma at a time. This gripping narrative is brought to life by the compelling narration of Roger Melin.
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Speaker 1 (00:01):
Chapter seventeen of The Hemlock Avenue Mystery by Roman Doubleday.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter seventeen.
There was an atmosphere of suppressed excitement about the place
that struck Lyon. As soon as they were admitted to
miss Eliot's there was a sound of voices of shutting
(00:22):
doors that was like the buzz of an excited hive.
The maid who took their cards from Missus Broughton looked
startled and hesitating, but departed on her errand without remark.
She's gone all right, murmured Lyon to his companion. In
a moment, Miss Elliot appeared severe and formal and angular
(00:45):
as ever, but with a nervous flutter in her voice
that told its own story to Lyon's quick ear. It
is impossible for Missus Broughton to receive visitors, she said.
The maid brought your cards to me, But I am
I'm authorized to say that Missus Broughton cannot see any one.
It is a matter of some importance, a legal matter,
(01:08):
said Howell. Miss Elliott shook her head. I am sorry,
it is impossible. Do you mean that she has not
yet returned asked Lyon gently. Miss Elliot turned to him
with a start. Do you mean that you have seen her? Oh?
Where was she? When was it? Why did she go?
(01:31):
I have not seen her. I heard that she had
been able to go out, and so hoped that she
might be strong enough to grant us an interview. She
had asked me to call in regard to a certain
manner in which she was interested. Do I understand she
is out this afternoon? Miss Eliot threw out her hands
with a gesture of despair. I do not know where
(01:54):
she is, where she went, or when she is simply
gone without a and she was hardly able to walk
across the room alone. I am wild about it. Where
could she have gone? And why should she go? Secretly,
I think she must have wandered off in a delirium,
(02:14):
and I dare not start an inquiry, for she may
return at any moment. And she was so anxious to
have nothing said about her visit here, But she has
been so ill. With every moment that passes, I feel
more alarmed and more helpless. When did she go? Asked Lyon.
(02:35):
You may count on us to help you in any
possible way, Miss Eliot, give us all the information that
you can about her departure. I went out myself this
afternoon at two o'clock. The maid says that a man
called to see missus Broughton. About half an hour later.
He sent a note to her, but no card. She
(02:57):
asked to have him come to her private sitting room,
and he was there perhaps fifteen minutes. Then he left.
When I came home at four o'clock, I went at
once to her room and found it empty. She has
not left her room before since she came. She has
been too ill. She is not in the house. I
(03:19):
have myself gone all through it. She must have dressed
and gone out some time during the afternoon when no
one happened to be in the hall. But I cannot
understand it, and I don't know what to do. Do
nothing at present, madam, and say nothing to anyone about it.
I will have a search instituted quietly, so that if
(03:42):
she should not return of her own accord, we shall
soon know, at any rate where she is. Said, howell,
can you give us any information about the man who called? None?
No one saw him, no one but the maiden. She
is not observing. I have questioned her. She could give
(04:04):
no description. Of him. Well, we must do the best
we can without it. I shall take pleasure in letting
you know as soon as we have anything to report,
said Howell, rising to depart. Lion had left his hat
and gloves on the hat rack in the hall. As
he took up his gloves, he felt something crinkle inside
(04:25):
one of them, and he knew instantly that Kitty had
sent him a message. That girl is a born intrigant,
he laughed to himself, with a sudden thrill that was
curiously tender for all his amusement. As soon as they
were outside, he unfolded the little note. The man who
came to see her was small and thin and wore
(04:48):
an old, dark blue coat. He had a bald spot
on the top of his head and a wart on
his nose. He walks on tiptoe. I hate a man
who walks on tiptoe. She went away in a hurry,
for she didn't take her comb or brush or anything. Oh,
I'm just wild to know what is happening? Is it anything? Mysterious?
(05:13):
Lyon read the note to Howell that man was beade,
He said, seriously, no question about that. Now, why did
she go? Because Bede persuaded her to hide or because
he frightened her into hiding on her own account? And
is Bede going to produce her or isn't he. I
(05:35):
never ran up against so many blind alleys in one
case in my life. There were apparently just three people
who knew what happened that night, Fullerton, Lawrence, and Missus Broughton.
Fullerton is dead, Missus Broughton is lost, and Lawrence will
not talk. I wonder if this will unseal his tongue.
(05:57):
I think I shall have to see him at once.
We'll have to report to Broughton first. That poor man
is on my mind very well. We'll go there first.
My chief anxiety regarding him is that he'll give the
whole thing away to the police. He is too accustomed
to having his own way about things. They walked around
(06:20):
the block to Broughton's home and found him waiting for them.
He fairly went wild when he heard their report. He
was for telephoning the police, printing posters, sending a town
crier around to make proclamation, anything and everything and all
at once. His wife was lost, and the resources of
(06:42):
the universe must be requisitioned to get her back. Go slow,
said Lyon. Missus Broughton is not a child. She hasn't
been kidnapped, and she isn't lost. She is hiding somewhere.
She had money, and she is accustomed to traveling. I
think you may feel reasonably sure that she is safe.
(07:05):
Speaking for Lawrence, we are anxious to find her. But
speaking for her, it may be just as well that
she should not be found until after the grand jury
has adjourned. What do you mean, demanded Broughton, fiercely. She
knows more about the Fullerton murder than it would be
agreeable for her to tell in court. You are mad,
(07:29):
gasped Broughton. Why does she disappear as soon as she
knows that Bede has connected her with the affairs of
that night? Broughton walked the floor. Then he stopped abruptly
before Howell. I wish that you would call up the
county jail and find out if she has been there
to see Lawrence. You can find out hypothetically without giving names.
(07:53):
You know that isn't a bad idea, said Howell. He
went to the telep and inquired whether anyone had been
admitted to see Lawrence that afternoon. The answer, when he
repeated it to the others seemed significant. A woman tried
to see him a little after five, but when she
(08:15):
found that she would have to give her name and
submit to search, she went away without disclosing her identity.
She wore a heavy veil, a short sealskin coat, and
a dark dress, general appearance of a lady. Broughton dropped
his eyes to the floor, and a look of sullen
anger displaced the anxiety that had racked his features. I
(08:39):
shall have an account to settle with mister Lawrence when
he is out of jail, he muttered savagely. In the meantime,
our efforts are all directed to getting him out, said Howell.
And since I cannot use missus Broughton as a witness,
I am as well content that she is out of
Bead's reach. Also, I will go down to see Lawrence
(09:00):
at once, and if I can get any information from
him that will interest you in this connection, I shall
let you know. I think that is all we can
do tonight. I'd like to go with you when you visit, Lawrence,
said Lyon quietly. Howell considered a moment and then nodded.
Perhaps he thought that another influence might be more successful
(09:23):
than his own. In unlocking the confidence of his client.
Lawrence tossed aside the book which he had been reading
and rose to greet them with all of his old,
light hearted self possession. Delighted to see you. I've been
reading Persian love poems till my brains are whirling around
like the song of a tipsy bull bull, so I
(09:45):
am particularly in need of some intelligent conversation. Howell, you
look as glum as though you were attorney for a
wretched fellow who had no chance of escaping the gallows.
I'm glad you have Lion associated with you. I've more
faith in his abilities than in yours. And he shot
a dancing glance at Lyon, which was not wholly mockery.
(10:10):
My abilities are at least equal to the facts that
have been given them to work up, said Howell dryly.
I came to ask you what you can tell me
about missus Broughton's visit to Wainscott. Lawrence's eyes widened with surprise.
Missus Broughton, what in the name of wonder are you
(10:30):
bringing her name in? For she visited your office that day? Yes,
what for? Lawrence shook his head. It was a professional visit.
I can't discuss the matter. I rather expected you to
say that, But the matter comes up in this way.
(10:53):
Lyon here has identified missus Broughton with the woman who
was seen with Fullerton that evening. He may be wrong,
of course, but if he is right, it may be
helpful to know what she wanted first from you and
then from him. Lawrence did not look at Lion this time.
His eyes swept clear of all expression, were fixed upon
(11:16):
Howell and calm attention. Why not ask her? He said?
She has been ill, too ill to be disturbed. Doctor
Barry has insisted this afternoon she disappeared. Bede had been
to see her a short time before. Now, what, bearing
(11:37):
so far as you know, does this have upon the case.
Lawrence dropped his eyes, which had been fixed intently upon
the speaker, and remained silent for some moments. Lion, watching him,
felt perfectly satisfied that the facts presented were all new
to him, and that his mind was now trying to
(11:58):
fit them into the theory of the crime which he
had before entertained, and that his hesitation in answering was
due to his caution. At last, he said, I cannot
throw any light on the subject. I did not see
Missus Broughton after she left my office in the morning.
Was her business of such a nature that she would
(12:20):
have been likely to consult Fullerton about it? Lawrence frowned.
She might have done so. Women never keep to the
rules of the game. You had warned her not to
consult him personally, Lawrence smiled satirically into Howell's eyes. What
are you trying to find out whether her business with
(12:44):
Fullerton was of a nature to rouse her to desperation
if she failed? Nonsense, Lawrence exclaimed, then more slowly and thoughtfully,
out of the question. Missus Broughton is a shy and
timid woman, and anything like desperation in her case would
react upon herself, not on any one else. You are
(13:08):
clear off the track, Howell. You admit, however, that she
might have been made desperate. I admit nothing whatsoever. If
I knew anything, I wouldn't admit it. Or I'll admit
that I don't know anything. If that will pacify you.
Where would she be likely to go? You know her friends?
(13:31):
Lawrence shook his head. If she was bent on hiding herself,
she would not be likely to go to the likely places.
And with that Howell had to depart as usual. His
client had given him no information that would be of
the slightest value in conducting the defense. Lion lingered when
(13:53):
Howell had departed. There is another matter I want to
tell you about, he said, I had an interview with
miss Walcott yesterday. The flash of Lawrence's eyes was electric.
Out with it, you tongue tied wretch, He cried, Lord,
that such privileges should fall to a man who doesn't
(14:14):
know better than to waste time in wordy preambles. Tell
me every syllable she said, every look that she didn't
put into syllables. To think that you have been sitting
here for half an hour with all that treasure locked
up inside of you confound you. Why don't you begin,
Begin at the beginning, and omit nothing. Lion began and
(14:40):
told all of his tale. Lawrence listened with an attentiveness
that seemed to meet the words half way and drag
them out into expression. He had forgotten himself entirely, and
his anger at her distress, his rage at Fullerton, his
amazed and odd wonder when he heard that shame over
(15:01):
her girlish folly in writing her heart out to a
man unworthy of it had made her deaf to All
other wooing were as plainly revealed as though he had
put them into his most voluble English. At the end,
he dropped his face upon his folded arms on the table.
The poor child, He murmured to himself, the poor child,
(15:25):
as though that or anything would have made any difference.
Suddenly he wheeled upon Lion with dancing eyes. Maybe you
are thinking that this is an upper room in the
county jail, and that I am a forlorn wretch with
a good prospect of being hung. Never think it, my boy.
(15:46):
There is nothing in all the universe so heaven wide
and free as this room. I know now how a
man feels when his reprieve comes. But your reprieve hasn't
come yet, said Lyon quietly. That is exactly the point.
Do you see any way yet in which I can
(16:06):
help it to come? Lawrence looked at him silently, smilingly,
and shook his head. Then it makes no difference in
your attitude, pursued Lyon, That Missus Broughton, and not anyone
else is shown to be the woman who is with
Fullerton that evening, It makes no difference, said Lawrence quietly,
(16:30):
Not even if she should prove to be the woman
who ran across the street? Is that your idea? Exclaimed
Lawrence in frank surprise. Oh, you are on the wrong track.
It was not she, But if it was, Lawrence walked
back and forth thoughtfully. Then he stopped again before lyon.
(16:55):
It would make no difference, he said. Then, with a smile,
he placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. Believe me, Lion,
I appreciate your interest and your earnestness, but beware of
letting it carry you too far. There are times, you know,
when the best service a friend can render is simply
(17:17):
to keep hands off. If you start in with an
idea of proving things, you may possibly prove too much.
There are matters that simply must not be brought into question.
He shook Lion in friendly roughness and let him go.
When Lion came out, the early night had already fallen,
(17:39):
and shadows lay heavy in the corners beyond the reach
of the street lamps. Lion glanced at the sky, and
then instead of going to Hemlock Avenue, he took his
way to the Wellington end of Chapter seventeen
Chapter seventeen of The Hemlock Avenue Mystery by Roman Doubleday.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter seventeen.
There was an atmosphere of suppressed excitement about the place
that struck Lyon. As soon as they were admitted to
miss Eliot's there was a sound of voices of shutting
(00:22):
doors that was like the buzz of an excited hive.
The maid who took their cards from Missus Broughton looked
startled and hesitating, but departed on her errand without remark.
She's gone all right, murmured Lyon to his companion. In
a moment, Miss Elliot appeared severe and formal and angular
(00:45):
as ever, but with a nervous flutter in her voice
that told its own story to Lyon's quick ear. It
is impossible for Missus Broughton to receive visitors, she said.
The maid brought your cards to me, But I am
I'm authorized to say that Missus Broughton cannot see any one.
It is a matter of some importance, a legal matter,
(01:08):
said Howell. Miss Elliott shook her head. I am sorry,
it is impossible. Do you mean that she has not
yet returned asked Lyon gently. Miss Elliot turned to him
with a start. Do you mean that you have seen her? Oh?
Where was she? When was it? Why did she go?
(01:31):
I have not seen her. I heard that she had
been able to go out, and so hoped that she
might be strong enough to grant us an interview. She
had asked me to call in regard to a certain
manner in which she was interested. Do I understand she
is out this afternoon? Miss Eliot threw out her hands
with a gesture of despair. I do not know where
(01:54):
she is, where she went, or when she is simply
gone without a and she was hardly able to walk
across the room alone. I am wild about it. Where
could she have gone? And why should she go? Secretly,
I think she must have wandered off in a delirium,
(02:14):
and I dare not start an inquiry, for she may
return at any moment. And she was so anxious to
have nothing said about her visit here, But she has
been so ill. With every moment that passes, I feel
more alarmed and more helpless. When did she go? Asked Lyon.
(02:35):
You may count on us to help you in any
possible way, Miss Eliot, give us all the information that
you can about her departure. I went out myself this
afternoon at two o'clock. The maid says that a man
called to see missus Broughton. About half an hour later.
He sent a note to her, but no card. She
(02:57):
asked to have him come to her private sitting room,
and he was there perhaps fifteen minutes. Then he left.
When I came home at four o'clock, I went at
once to her room and found it empty. She has
not left her room before since she came. She has
been too ill. She is not in the house. I
(03:19):
have myself gone all through it. She must have dressed
and gone out some time during the afternoon when no
one happened to be in the hall. But I cannot
understand it, and I don't know what to do. Do
nothing at present, madam, and say nothing to anyone about it.
I will have a search instituted quietly, so that if
(03:42):
she should not return of her own accord, we shall
soon know, at any rate where she is. Said, howell,
can you give us any information about the man who called? None?
No one saw him, no one but the maiden. She
is not observing. I have questioned her. She could give
(04:04):
no description. Of him. Well, we must do the best
we can without it. I shall take pleasure in letting
you know as soon as we have anything to report,
said Howell, rising to depart. Lion had left his hat
and gloves on the hat rack in the hall. As
he took up his gloves, he felt something crinkle inside
(04:25):
one of them, and he knew instantly that Kitty had
sent him a message. That girl is a born intrigant,
he laughed to himself, with a sudden thrill that was
curiously tender for all his amusement. As soon as they
were outside, he unfolded the little note. The man who
came to see her was small and thin and wore
(04:48):
an old, dark blue coat. He had a bald spot
on the top of his head and a wart on
his nose. He walks on tiptoe. I hate a man
who walks on tiptoe. She went away in a hurry,
for she didn't take her comb or brush or anything. Oh,
I'm just wild to know what is happening? Is it anything? Mysterious?
(05:13):
Lyon read the note to Howell that man was beade,
He said, seriously, no question about that. Now, why did
she go? Because Bede persuaded her to hide or because
he frightened her into hiding on her own account? And
is Bede going to produce her or isn't he. I
(05:35):
never ran up against so many blind alleys in one
case in my life. There were apparently just three people
who knew what happened that night, Fullerton, Lawrence, and Missus Broughton.
Fullerton is dead, Missus Broughton is lost, and Lawrence will
not talk. I wonder if this will unseal his tongue.
(05:57):
I think I shall have to see him at once.
We'll have to report to Broughton first. That poor man
is on my mind very well. We'll go there first.
My chief anxiety regarding him is that he'll give the
whole thing away to the police. He is too accustomed
to having his own way about things. They walked around
(06:20):
the block to Broughton's home and found him waiting for them.
He fairly went wild when he heard their report. He
was for telephoning the police, printing posters, sending a town
crier around to make proclamation, anything and everything and all
at once. His wife was lost, and the resources of
(06:42):
the universe must be requisitioned to get her back. Go slow,
said Lyon. Missus Broughton is not a child. She hasn't
been kidnapped, and she isn't lost. She is hiding somewhere.
She had money, and she is accustomed to traveling. I
think you may feel reasonably sure that she is safe.
(07:05):
Speaking for Lawrence, we are anxious to find her. But
speaking for her, it may be just as well that
she should not be found until after the grand jury
has adjourned. What do you mean, demanded Broughton, fiercely. She
knows more about the Fullerton murder than it would be
agreeable for her to tell in court. You are mad,
(07:29):
gasped Broughton. Why does she disappear as soon as she
knows that Bede has connected her with the affairs of
that night? Broughton walked the floor. Then he stopped abruptly
before Howell. I wish that you would call up the
county jail and find out if she has been there
to see Lawrence. You can find out hypothetically without giving names.
(07:53):
You know that isn't a bad idea, said Howell. He
went to the telep and inquired whether anyone had been
admitted to see Lawrence that afternoon. The answer, when he
repeated it to the others seemed significant. A woman tried
to see him a little after five, but when she
(08:15):
found that she would have to give her name and
submit to search, she went away without disclosing her identity.
She wore a heavy veil, a short sealskin coat, and
a dark dress, general appearance of a lady. Broughton dropped
his eyes to the floor, and a look of sullen
anger displaced the anxiety that had racked his features. I
(08:39):
shall have an account to settle with mister Lawrence when
he is out of jail, he muttered savagely. In the meantime,
our efforts are all directed to getting him out, said Howell.
And since I cannot use missus Broughton as a witness,
I am as well content that she is out of
Bead's reach. Also, I will go down to see Lawrence
(09:00):
at once, and if I can get any information from
him that will interest you in this connection, I shall
let you know. I think that is all we can
do tonight. I'd like to go with you when you visit, Lawrence,
said Lyon quietly. Howell considered a moment and then nodded.
Perhaps he thought that another influence might be more successful
(09:23):
than his own. In unlocking the confidence of his client.
Lawrence tossed aside the book which he had been reading
and rose to greet them with all of his old,
light hearted self possession. Delighted to see you. I've been
reading Persian love poems till my brains are whirling around
like the song of a tipsy bull bull, so I
(09:45):
am particularly in need of some intelligent conversation. Howell, you
look as glum as though you were attorney for a
wretched fellow who had no chance of escaping the gallows.
I'm glad you have Lion associated with you. I've more
faith in his abilities than in yours. And he shot
a dancing glance at Lyon, which was not wholly mockery.
(10:10):
My abilities are at least equal to the facts that
have been given them to work up, said Howell dryly.
I came to ask you what you can tell me
about missus Broughton's visit to Wainscott. Lawrence's eyes widened with surprise.
Missus Broughton, what in the name of wonder are you
(10:30):
bringing her name in? For she visited your office that day? Yes,
what for? Lawrence shook his head. It was a professional visit.
I can't discuss the matter. I rather expected you to
say that, But the matter comes up in this way.
(10:53):
Lyon here has identified missus Broughton with the woman who
was seen with Fullerton that evening. He may be wrong,
of course, but if he is right, it may be
helpful to know what she wanted first from you and
then from him. Lawrence did not look at Lion this time.
His eyes swept clear of all expression, were fixed upon
(11:16):
Howell and calm attention. Why not ask her? He said?
She has been ill, too ill to be disturbed. Doctor
Barry has insisted this afternoon she disappeared. Bede had been
to see her a short time before. Now, what, bearing
(11:37):
so far as you know, does this have upon the case.
Lawrence dropped his eyes, which had been fixed intently upon
the speaker, and remained silent for some moments. Lion, watching him,
felt perfectly satisfied that the facts presented were all new
to him, and that his mind was now trying to
(11:58):
fit them into the theory of the crime which he
had before entertained, and that his hesitation in answering was
due to his caution. At last, he said, I cannot
throw any light on the subject. I did not see
Missus Broughton after she left my office in the morning.
Was her business of such a nature that she would
(12:20):
have been likely to consult Fullerton about it? Lawrence frowned.
She might have done so. Women never keep to the
rules of the game. You had warned her not to
consult him personally, Lawrence smiled satirically into Howell's eyes. What
are you trying to find out whether her business with
(12:44):
Fullerton was of a nature to rouse her to desperation
if she failed? Nonsense, Lawrence exclaimed, then more slowly and thoughtfully,
out of the question. Missus Broughton is a shy and
timid woman, and anything like desperation in her case would
react upon herself, not on any one else. You are
(13:08):
clear off the track, Howell. You admit, however, that she
might have been made desperate. I admit nothing whatsoever. If
I knew anything, I wouldn't admit it. Or I'll admit
that I don't know anything. If that will pacify you.
Where would she be likely to go? You know her friends?
(13:31):
Lawrence shook his head. If she was bent on hiding herself,
she would not be likely to go to the likely places.
And with that Howell had to depart as usual. His
client had given him no information that would be of
the slightest value in conducting the defense. Lion lingered when
(13:53):
Howell had departed. There is another matter I want to
tell you about, he said, I had an interview with
miss Walcott yesterday. The flash of Lawrence's eyes was electric.
Out with it, you tongue tied wretch, He cried, Lord,
that such privileges should fall to a man who doesn't
(14:14):
know better than to waste time in wordy preambles. Tell
me every syllable she said, every look that she didn't
put into syllables. To think that you have been sitting
here for half an hour with all that treasure locked
up inside of you confound you. Why don't you begin,
Begin at the beginning, and omit nothing. Lion began and
(14:40):
told all of his tale. Lawrence listened with an attentiveness
that seemed to meet the words half way and drag
them out into expression. He had forgotten himself entirely, and
his anger at her distress, his rage at Fullerton, his
amazed and odd wonder when he heard that shame over
(15:01):
her girlish folly in writing her heart out to a
man unworthy of it had made her deaf to All
other wooing were as plainly revealed as though he had
put them into his most voluble English. At the end,
he dropped his face upon his folded arms on the table.
The poor child, He murmured to himself, the poor child,
(15:25):
as though that or anything would have made any difference.
Suddenly he wheeled upon Lion with dancing eyes. Maybe you
are thinking that this is an upper room in the
county jail, and that I am a forlorn wretch with
a good prospect of being hung. Never think it, my boy.
(15:46):
There is nothing in all the universe so heaven wide
and free as this room. I know now how a
man feels when his reprieve comes. But your reprieve hasn't
come yet, said Lyon quietly. That is exactly the point.
Do you see any way yet in which I can
(16:06):
help it to come? Lawrence looked at him silently, smilingly,
and shook his head. Then it makes no difference in
your attitude, pursued Lyon, That Missus Broughton, and not anyone
else is shown to be the woman who is with
Fullerton that evening, It makes no difference, said Lawrence quietly,
(16:30):
Not even if she should prove to be the woman
who ran across the street? Is that your idea? Exclaimed
Lawrence in frank surprise. Oh, you are on the wrong track.
It was not she, But if it was, Lawrence walked
back and forth thoughtfully. Then he stopped again before lyon.
(16:55):
It would make no difference, he said. Then, with a smile,
he placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. Believe me, Lion,
I appreciate your interest and your earnestness, but beware of
letting it carry you too far. There are times, you know,
when the best service a friend can render is simply
(17:17):
to keep hands off. If you start in with an
idea of proving things, you may possibly prove too much.
There are matters that simply must not be brought into question.
He shook Lion in friendly roughness and let him go.
When Lion came out, the early night had already fallen,
(17:39):
and shadows lay heavy in the corners beyond the reach
of the street lamps. Lion glanced at the sky, and
then instead of going to Hemlock Avenue, he took his
way to the Wellington end of Chapter seventeen
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