There were three ways in or out of Mitre Square; one carriageway, between the shop of a picture frame maker (a bloke named Taylor) on the right and the Walter Williams & Co. warehouses on the left, from Mitre Street, and two narrow foot passages; one called Church Passage at the east corner of the square, leading to and from Duke Street (the route I"d strolled with the singing w***e), and one without designation, at the north point of the square, leading to St James" Place (the Orange Market).
As I said, it was 1:44 am (a mere three-quarters of an hour after the socialists had found the gift I"d left at the mouth of Dutfield"s Yard), when that City copper walked round the corner at Leadenhall Street and the Aldgate High, headed for Mitre Street. He passed me drip-drying in the shadows beh
