Clem had to take several seconds to orient himself on the Strand before he set off on foot. He was upset, but also, the air was getting thicker. November became colder and wetter by the day, people kept their fires burning longer, and the air was starting to curdle. Woodsmoke and coal and factory fumes, roiling like thunderclouds over the city, ready to mix with the miasmatic exhalations of the river and turn the usual wintry fog into something hellish.
