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CHAPTER II
THE GIRL WHO CRIED
THE northern express had deposited its passengers at King's Cross on time. All the station approaches were crowded with hurrying passengers. Taxicabs and "growlers" were mixed in apparently inextricable confusion. There was a roaring babble of instruction and counter-instruction from policemen, from cab drivers, and from excited porters. Some of the passengers hurried swiftly across the broad asphalt space and disappeared down the stairs toward the underground station. Others waited for unpunctual friends with protesting and frequent examination of their watches.
One alone seemed wholly bewildered by the noise and commotion. She was a young girl not more than eighteen, and she struggled
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