Connie went back to Giles, and Pickles, having obtained the information which he desired, sped as fast as his feet could carry him down the street. Once more his spirits were high, and hope was before him.  
"I may save you, you most obstinate and tiresome Cinderella," he said to himself. "But oh, wot a mistake gels are! Why hever those weak and misguided beings was allowed to be is a puzzlement too great fur me."
 
But though Pickles talked even to himself in this light and careless vein, there was (and he knew it) a pain in his heart—a pain joined to an admiration for Sue, which would have made him willing to fight to the very death in her behalf.
 
The day, however, had been spent while he was rushing about, and by the time he reached the place where Connie had directed him to seek her father, the workmen were putting by their tools and preparing to go home.
 
Pickles followed Harris down the street. Harris was talking to and walking with one of his fellow-workmen, and Pickles did not care to accost him except when he was alone.
 
At the corner, however, of the next street the two parted; and then the boy, putting his face into grave and serious order, ran lightly after Harris. When he addressed him his very voice trembled.
 
"Mr. Harris, I see'd you coming out of that yer shop. I'm in much perplexity and trouble in my mind, and I thought the sight of you and a talk wid you might maybe set me up."
 
"You thought wrong, then," said Harris, replying in his gruffest voice, &quo............