Chapter 30
In that part of London called "the City" are shady little streets, that look like pleasant retreats from the busy, noisy world; yet are strongholds of business. One of these contained, and perhaps still contains, a public office full of secrets, some droll, some sad, some terrible. The building had a narrow, insignificant front, but was of great depth, and its south side lighted by large bay windows all stone and plate-glass; and these were open to the sun and air, thanks to a singular neighbor. Here, in the heart of the City, was wedged a little rustic church, with its church-yard, whose bright-green grass first startled, then soothed and refreshed the eye, in that wilderness of stone--an emerald set in granite. The grass flowed up to the south wall of the "office;" those massive stone w
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