‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. For a few moments, Thames regarded the little girl through the half-opened door in silence. By that time it seemed to them they had lived together twenty years. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. “I am going to break a covenant,” he cried. He seemed like a very intelligent doctor and not at all like a snooty archbishop. I freely forgive you.
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