The streets by this time were very empty. There was none of that lingering night life that you find in the West or the East End of London. It was as though the pavements had been swept of humanity, and in the frosty air my footsteps rang out sharply. I was not making for any particular spot⁠—I just followed the way that fancy led me, going up one alley and down another. Past an open doorway, inside which a sleeping figure huddled, cowering deep down among its clothes. Sometimes other figures could be seen in a passageway and on the staircase, all motionless in the drugged sleep of intense fatigue.