Mr. Bounderby knew it was somewhere down town, but knew no more respecting it. So they stopped for a moment, looking about.

Almost as they did so, there came running round the corner of the street at a quick pace and with a frightened look, a girl whom Mr. Gradgrind recognized. “Halloa!” said he. “Stop! Where are you going! Stop!” Girl number twenty stopped then, palpitating, and made him a curtsey.

“Why are you tearing about the streets,” said Mr. Gradgrind, “in this improper manner?”

“I was⁠—I was run after, sir,” the girl panted, “and I wanted to get away.”