He took Bim's
hand, and, "Of course," Bim said, "there didn't have to be any
'splaining. _He_ knew what I wanted." True or not, I like to think of
them, in the evening air, serenely safe and comfortable, and in any
case, it was surely strange that if, as one's common sense compels one
to suppose, Bim were all alone in that crowd, no one wondered or stopped
him nor asked him where his home was. At any rate, I have no opinions on
the subject. Bim says that, at once, they found themselves out of the
crowd in a quiet, little "dinky" street, as he called it, a street that,
in his description of it, answered to nothing that I can remember in
this part of the world. His account of it seems to present a dark,
rather narrow place, with overhanging roofs and swinging signs, and
nobody, he says, at all about, but a church with a bell, and outside one
shop a row of bright-coloured clothes hanging. At any rate, here Bim
found the place that he wanted. There was a little shop with steps down
into it and a tinkling bell which made a tremendous noise when you
pushed the old oak door. Inside there was every sort of thing.
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