6o8 ANGEL PAVEMENT

-Oh, I'll get hold of that daughter of mine."

When they returned after lunch, they found that they
had left the docks behind and were now in the river,
There $as a new chill freshness in the air and a vague
hint of the sea. On one side, the last of Woolwich was
straggling past, with a misty Shooters Hill behind; and
on the other side there were some old piers and a gas
works.

"Better take a last look at London," said Mr. Golspie
to his daughter, as they walked round the deck. 'There
it is, see?"

'There's nothing to see," said Lena, looking back at
the glistening streaky water and the haze and shadows
beyond. "Not worth looking at."

"All gone in smoke, eh? I mean the proper London.
As a matter of fact, we're not out of London yet. That's
right, isn't it?"

"Not quite out of it yet," replied Mr. Sugden, "but-
you've seen all there is to see. I think 111 go down and
have my little afternoon snooze."

A string of barges passed them, moving slowly on to
the very heart of the city. A gull dropped, wheeled,
flashed, was gone, and with it went what little sun there
was. The gleam faded from the face of the river; a chill
wind stirred; the distant banks, a higgledy-piggledy of
little buildings and green patches, retreated; and even. f
the smoky haze of London City slipped away from them,
thinning out into grey sky. "Well, the sun's gone in/* ,
said Mr. Golspie, "so 111 go in, too." Somewhere a
steamer hooted twice out of the ghostliness. He gave a
last look, then turned away. "And that's that/'

THE