CHAPTER III
THE WILL
IN quite another quarter of the city from the crowded thoroughfare where we first saw d**k, is another street, very different, but quite as interesting. It is narrow and dark ; it does not celebrate the holiday time with gayly dressed shop windows ; between the two black ranks of buildings that front on it, it is quite empty, save for alert policemen who patrol it, and the storm which has became ill natured as it whips angrily around corners. You may search as you will about this great city, but you will hardly find a spot more dismal, more chilling, more to be shunned on this jolly Christmas Eve. There is no doubt a dreariness of poverty, but the dreariness of wealth is worse ; hidden, guarded, vaulted wealth, like that which lies behind these thick stone walls. For
