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Soa orse than ever at Sloane Square station Through the

still, thick blur, rasped their

reticules to their bosoms and handkerchiefs to their mouths; crowned

with the weird excrescence of the driver, haloed by a vague glow

of laht that seemed to drown in vapour before it reached the

paveed

citizens, bolting like rabbits to their burrows

And these shadowy figures, wrapped each in his own little shroud of

fog, took no notice of each other In the great warren, each rabbit for

himself, especially those clothed in the y days, are driven underground

One figure, however, not far from Soames, waited at the station door

Soht: 'Poor devil!

looks as if he were having a bad time!' Their kind hearts beat a stroke

faster for that poor, waiting, anxious lover in the fog; but they

hurried by, well knowing that they had neither ti but their own

Only a police slowly and at intervals, took an interest

in that waiting figure, the brim of whose slouch hat half hid a face

reddened by the cold, all thin, and haggard, over which a hand stole now

and again to smooth away anxiety, or renew the resolution that kept

hi lover (if lover he were) was used