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Updated: May 19, 2025
When an enthusiastic young clergyman of the Established Church first realizes that the Ecclesiastical Commissioners receive the rents of sporting public houses, brothels, and sweating dens; or that the most generous contributor at his last charity sermon was an employer trading in female labor cheapened by prostitution as unscrupulously as a hotel keeper trades in waiters' labor cheapened by tips, or commissionaire's labor cheapened by pensions; or that the only patron who can afford to rebuild his church or his schools or give his boys' brigade a gymnasium or a library is the son-in-law of a Chicago meat King, that young clergyman has, like Barbara, a very bad quarter hour.
There was a shade of curiosity, mingled with surprise, in the commissionaire's respectful greeting. "There have been a good many enquiries for you the last few days, sir," he observed. "I dare say," Julian replied. "I was obliged to go out of town unexpectedly." He ran through the little pile of letters and selected a bulky envelope addressed to himself in his own handwriting.
Smith, my name is, Isaac Smith; and I'm that tallish, grisly fellow with the seam down one side of my face, my left sleeve looped up to my button, and not a speck to be seen on that "commissionaire's" uniform, upon whose breast I've got three medals. I was standing one day, waiting patiently for something to do, when a tallish gentleman came up, nodded as if he knew me well, and I saluted.
"The commissionaire's been gone ages already, and there are two others before us for taxis." "We can't walk," her escort replied gloomily. "It's a foul night. Nothing to do but wait, what? Let's go back and have another drink." The girl stamped her satin-shod foot impatiently. "Don't be silly," she expostulated. "You know I promised Clara we'd be there early."
He had not got his commissionaire's uniform on, and I did not know he was one till I met him a month or so later in the Strand. When we got to Blackwall the music struck up and people began to dance. I never saw a man dance so much in my life. He did not miss a dance all the way to Clacton, nor all the way back again, and when not dancing he was flirting and cracking jokes.
The last of the supper-guests had left Henry's Restaurant, the commissionaire's whistle was silent. The light laughter and frivolous adieux of the departing guests seemed to have melted away into a world somewhere beyond the pale of the unseasonable fog. The little strip of waste ground adjoining was wrapped in gloom and silence.
I heard only last night just before our little tussle. There was a silence. 'It is well, said Racksole at length. 'Prince Eugen lives, despite all plots. After all, justice is done. 'Mr Racksole is here, but he can see no one, Miss. The words came from behind the door, and the voice was the commissionaire's. Racksole started up, and went towards the door.
La Candele and the others must not recognize in you the wine-shop bully; that would spoil all. What have you on under that blouse, a commissionaire's dress? "That will do; now change the face."
I never liked Michael Angelo, and never shall, but I am afraid of him, and was near trying to hide when I saw him coming towards me. He had not got his commissionaire's uniform on, and I did not know he was one till I met him a month or so later in the Strand. When we got to Blackwall the music struck up and people began to dance. I never saw a man dance so much in my life.
She made a few choice remarks upon the undoubted inclusion of a pig in the commissionaire's parentage, in a curiously sibilant voice, then limped away with a distressing swing of her body from the hips. "Can't you keep those people quiet?" Kelham demanded angrily, as he moved a chair further back, and lit a cigarette.
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