He was hungry now and sought an A.B.C. shop and there over the cold
marble-topped tables consulted his list. The next attempt should be _The
Saturday Illustrated_, one of the leading illustrated weeklies, and perhaps
there he would be more successful. As he sat in the A.B.C. shop and watched
the squares of street opposite the window he felt suddenly that no effort
of his would enable him to struggle successfully against those indifferent
crowds.
Above the houses in the patch of blue sky that filled the window-pane soft
bundles of cloud streamed like flags before the wind. Into these soft grey
meshes the sun was swept and with a cold shudder Fleet Street fell into
shadow; beyond it and above it the great dome burned; a company of sandwich
men, advertising on their stooping bodies the latest musical comedy, crept
along the gutter.
III
At the offices of _The Saturday Illustrated_ they told him that if he
returned at four o'clock he would be able to see the Editor. He walked
about and at last sat down on the Embankment and watched the barges slide
down the river. The water was feathery and sometimes streamed into lines
like spun silk reflecting many colours, and above the water the clouds
turned and wheeled and changed against the limpid blue. The little slap
that the motion of the river gave to the stone embankment reminded him of
the wooden jetty at Treliss--the place was strangely sweet--the roar of the
Strand was far away and muffled.
Pages:
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333