Skirting the noble gardens of Montague House, (now, we need scarcely say, the British Museum,) the party speedily reached Great Russell Street,—a quarter described by Strype, in his edition of old Stow's famous Survey, "as being graced with the best buildings in all Bloomsbury, and the best inhabited by the nobility and gentry, especially the north side, as having gardens behind the houses, and the prospect of the pleasant fields up to Hampstead and Highgate; insomuch that this place, by physicians, is esteemed the most healthful of any in London. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. “But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. I freely forgive you. “I feared we might have a fog.
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