COMSTOCK always admitted that he stormed the palace
of Restell because every one said he would not dare. She
was an institution, a legend and in the popular mind a prac-
titioner of black arts. In plain fact, this elderly Cockney
woman was a former midwife who early in her career went
over to contraception and abortion. But in changing sides
she moved with banners flying. Her trade was illegal and
not essentially romantic, and yet she readily took on mag-
nificence. In the press her great house at the corner of
Fifty-second Street and Fifth Avenue was never spoken of
except as "the palace," and the newspapers very generally
ignored the fact that her real name was Ann Lohman.
Madame Restell they called her.

When Comstock and his policemen came, she called for
her victoria and said to the coachman in her livery, "The
Tombs, John." Down the avenue they drove, Restell and
Comstock, and the black ostrich plumes on her hat nodded
in the breeze and there was the glow of sunlight on her
velvet cape. What did these two talk about during the
journey? Unfortunately the reporters of the day seem to
have overlooked this important point.

The footman handed her down at the jail door and let
Anthony scramble after her unaided. But there was no deep
stability under the swagger of Restell for she knew that
this grim pursuer had his case in hand. And though he

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