"Lean on me," said Jack. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. And grasping the thick iron rod, she pushed with all her force against it, while Jack seconded her efforts from within. "Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases.
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