improve your self-respect to wait on the gentlemen of Upper Street!"
Irony is not a weapon much in use among working-people; their wits in general are too slow. With Sidney, however, it had always been a habit of speech in indignant criticism, and sympathy made him aware that nothing would sting Clara more acutely. He saw that he was successful when she turned her head away and moved it nervously.
"And do you suppose I go there because the place pleases me?" she asked in a cold, hostile voice. "You make a great mistake, as you always do when you pretend to know anything about me. Wait till I've learned a little about the business; you won't find me in Upper Street then."
"I understand."
Again they walked on in silence. They were nearing Clerkenwell Close, and had to pass a corner of the prison in a dark lane, where the wind moaned drearily. The line of the high blank wall was relieved in colourless gloom against a sky of sheer night.
