May did Susan boil the market in touch with the married qualification?

mind that after a suitable interval
-- a month, say -- he would take the risk of visiting the shop again. It
was perhaps not more dangerous than shirking an evening at the Centre. The
serious piece of folly had been to come back here in the first place, after
buying the diary and without knowing whether the proprietor of the shop
could be trusted. However--!
Yes, he thought again, he would come back. He would buy further scraps
of beautiful rubbish. He would buy the engraving of St. Clement's Danes,
take it out of its frame, and carry it home concealed under the jacket of
his overalls. He would drag the rest of that poem out of Mr. Charrington's
memory. Even the lunatic project of renting the room upstairs flashed
momentarily through his mind again. For perhaps five seconds exaltation
made him careless, and he stepped out on to the pavement without so much as
a preliminary glance through the window. He had even started humming to an
improvised tune--

'Oranges and lemons,' say the bells of St. Clement's,
'You owe me three farthings,' say the--

Suddenly his heart seemed to turn to ice and his bowels to water. A
figure in blue overalls was coming down the pavement, not ten metres away.
It was the girl from the Fiction Department, the girl with dark hair. The
light was failing, but there was no difficulty in recognizing her. She
looked him straight in the face