From Elizabethan times, I mean.”Lola’s obvious disappointment penetrated my blur of shame. She hates it, I thought miserably. She thinks I’ve screwed up big time. And now I came to take in my surroundings, so did I.We were on a street corner in the East End of London, just before dawn. An old-fashioned gas lamp made a wobbly halo in the fog. Figures toiled past like grey ghosts. They all seemed to be struggling with things that were too heavy for them, lugging baskets or bundles, or patiently dragging home-made carts and trolleys. Soot-blackened tenements loomed over the street, shutting out the sky.It isn’t like this in Sherlock Holmes, I thought.“Hey, we just went from summer to winter in twenty seconds. That’s enough to make anyone feel strange,” I said brightly. “The sun will come up in a minute. Then we’ll see how cool this is.”Brice pulled his hood over his head. “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”A young girl trudged by. ‘“Oo will buy?” she called in a harsh voice.
