Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. Can I be accommodated with a seat, Mr. To-day is for the sights; the other three days—lessons. ’ Gosse smiled and Melusine read triumph there. Even the love of a mother does not sway him. ’ Then she frowned. ] THE RAGGED EDGE BY HAROLD MACGRATH AUTHOR OF DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. You say that this gentleman was with you?” “I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially.
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