It had only seven leaves and never seemed to put
forthany new ones. Come on down to the Cri and well pinch the barmaidsbum. Hemade
himself a cup of tea almost every night, in the deadliestsecrecy.
But Willowbed Roaditself contrived to keep up a
kind of mingy, lower-middle-classdecency. He clutched his book to him andslipped out
with the air of having committed some disgracefulaction.
When he was a little boy he still had great numbers
ofuncles and aunts living. You havent seen the new girl theyve got inthe saloon bar
yet.
She stabbed his maleincompetence with gimlet eyes
and went out again.
Sauce advertisement fluttered sharply, like a piece
of washing onthe line. And in loneliness no decent book wasever written. A
littlewhile back the Queen of Sheba Toilet Requisites Co. She smiled at him, and
with a gait as clumsy as a bearsfollowed him into the library. You havent seen the
new girl theyve got inthe saloon bar yet. London Pleasures, by GordonComstock,
author of Mice. He watched their fur-coated upper-middle-class backs go down
thestreet.
Finally, however, it was The Adventures ofSherlock
Holmes that he took from the mantelpiece. Where was that passage he had been
workingon yesterday?
Flaxman was living apart from his wife at the
moment. Ten days in Pariswith thirty quid that wifie hadnt heard about! Willowbed
Road, NW, was not definitely slummy, only dingy anddepressing. Gordon, who came home
for his midday dinner, paidtwenty-seven and six a week. Finally, however, it was The
Adventures ofSherlock Holmes that he took from the mantelpiece.
At this moment Mrs Wisbeachs voice rang shrewishly
up the stairs:Mister Com-stock! He ranged among the hot-stuff modern love-stories.