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In the pupils' room of the offices of Lucas & Enwright, architects, Russell Square, Bloomsbury, George Edwin Cannon, an articled pupil, leaned over a large drawingboard and looked up at Mr. Enwright, the head of the firm, who with cigarette andstick was on his way out after what he called a good day's work. It was past sixo'clock on an evening in early July 1901. To George's right was an open door leadingto the principals' room, and to his left another open door leading to more roomsand to the staircase. The lofty chambers were full of lassitude; but round aboutGeorge, who was working late, there floated the tonic vapour of conscious virtue.Haim, the factotum, could be seen and heard moving in his cubicle which guardedthe offices from the stairs. In the rooms shortly to be deserted and locked up, andin the decline of the day, the three men were drawn together like survivors."I gather you're going to change your abode," said Mr. Enwright, having stopped."Did Mr. Orgreave tell you, then?" George asked."Well, he didn't exactly tell me...."John Orgreave was Mr. Enwright's junior partner; and for nearly two years, since hisadvent in London from the Five Towns, George had lived with Mr. and Mrs.Orgreave at Bedford Park. The Orgreaves, too, sprang from the Five Towns. John'speople and George's people were closely entwined in the local annals.Pupil and principal glanced discreetly at one another, exchanging in silence vague, malicious, unutterable critical verdicts upon both John Orgreave and his wife."Well, I am " said George at length."Where are you going to?