She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. The coachman answered by a surly grunt, and, plying his whip with redoubled zeal, shaped his course down Dyot Street; traversed that part of Holborn, which is now called Broad Street, and where two ancient alms-houses were, then, standing in the middle of that great thoroughfare, exactly opposite the opening of Compston Street; and, diving under a wide gateway on the left, soon reached a more open space, surrounded by mean habitations, coach-houses and stables, called Kendrick Yard, at the further end of which Saint Giles's round-house was situated. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. ” He smiled at the naiveté of her suggestion. mm. Many little things had contributed to that decision. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal warfare against indifference and slovenliness. The door closed softly upon her. It simply doesn’t count. ‘Jacques? Oh, that is news of the very finest. There's a feather in your cap! No house-breaker was ever so highly honoured before. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate.
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