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As a result, we sallied forth in a body to the nearest newsvendor's, and, having each provided himself with a copy of the Daily Telegraph, adjourned together to the Common Room to devour the report and thereafter to discuss the bearings of the case, unhampered by those considerations of delicacy that afflicted our more squeamish and scrupulous teacher.
I left my narrative in the quiet shadow of Limmeridge church I resume it, one week later, in the stir and turmoil of a London street. The street is in a populous and a poor neighbourhood. The ground floor of one of the houses in it is occupied by a small newsvendor's shop, and the first floor and the second are let as furnished lodgings of the humblest kind.
It was rather earlier than our usual hour for leaving the Museum and, moreover, it was our last day for the present. It was in the latter thoroughfare that our attention was attracted by a flaming poster outside a newsvendor's bearing the startling inscription: "MORE MEMENTOES OF MURDERED MAN." Miss Bellingham glanced at the poster and shuddered. "Horrible! Isn't it?" she said.
He sighed as he thought of the fee. Sovereigns were becoming scarce in our young Socialist's purse. Arriving in sight of the newsvendor's shop, Amelius noticed a man leaving it, who walked away towards the farther end of the street. When he entered the shop himself a minute afterwards, the woman took up a letter from the counter. "A young man has just left this for you," she said.
''Ear, 'ear! said the deaf old newsvendor, with his free hand up to his ear. 'And to express our sympathy with the brave women The staccato cries throughout the audience dissolved into one general hoot; but above it sounded the old newsvendor's ''Ear, 'ear! ''E can't 'ear without 'e shouts about it. 'Try and keep yerself quiet, said he, with dignity. 'We ain't 'ere to 'ear you.
Evidently it all depends upon the clothes. Woman and her behaviour. Should women smoke? The question, in four-inch letters, exhibited on a placard outside a small newsvendor's shop, caught recently my eye. The wanderer through London streets is familiar with such-like appeals to his decision: "Should short men marry tall wives?" "Ought we to cut our hair?" "Should second cousins kiss?"
It was rather earlier than our usual hour for leaving the Museum and, moreover, it was our last day for the present. It was in the last thoroughfare that our attention was attracted by a flaring poster outside a newsvendor's bearing the startling inscription: "MORE MEMENTOES OF MURDERED MAN." Miss Bellingham glanced at the poster and shuddered. "Horrible, isn't it?" she said.
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