No, sir, I make it a rule of mine: the more it looks like Queer Street, the less I ask.'
'A very good rule, too,' said the lawyer.
'But I have studied the place for myself,' continued Mr. Enfield. 'It seems scarcely a house. There is no other door, and nobody goes in or out of that one but, once in a great while, the gentleman of my adventure. There are three windows looking on the court on the first floor; none below; the windows are always shut but they're clean. And then there is a chimney which is generally smoking; so somebody must live there. And yet it's not so sure; for the buildings are so packed together about that court, that it's hard to say where one ends and another begins.'
The pair walked on again for a while in silence; and then 'Enfield,' said Mr. Utterson, 'that's a good rule of yours.'
'Yes, I think it is,' returned Enfield.
'But for all that,' continued the lawyer, 'there's one point I want to ask: I want to ask the name of that man who walked over the child.'
'Well,' said Mr. Enfield, 'I can't see what