Give me the keys and the light. One more passer-by; and always would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. The Bishop, however, to show him the danger of meddling with the church, gave him a dance at Tyburn for his pains. There she sought and at last found 107A, one of those heterogeneous piles of offices which occupy the eastern side of the lane.
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