Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 15, 2025
The noise the newspaper-sellers made outside had evidently wakened Mr. Sleuth, for his landlady hadn't been in the kitchen ten minutes before his bell rang. Mr. Sleuth's bell rang again. Mr. Sleuth's breakfast was quite ready, but for the first time since he had been her lodger Mrs. Bunting did not answer the summons at once.
I never thought I'd take you in as well as all that!" It was Joe Chandler Joe Chandler dressed up, as she knew he sometimes, not very often, did dress up in the course of his work. Mrs. Bunting began laughing laughing helplessly, hysterically, just as she had done on the morning of Daisy's arrival, when the newspaper-sellers had come shouting down the Marylebone Road. "What's all this about?"
The newspaper-sellers looked moist, and smelled mouldy; the wet ran off the hats of the orange-vendors as they thrust their heads into the coach windows, and diluted the insides in a refreshing manner. The Jews with the fifty-bladed penknives shut them up in despair; the men with the pocket-books made pocket-books of them.
There is no illusion, and no dreaming, in modern life. Look at this street. La, la!" In the darkened Strand, hundreds of khaki-clad figures and girls were streaming by, and all their voices had a hard, half-jovial vulgarity. The motor-cabs and buses pushed along remorselessly; newspaper-sellers muttered their ceaseless invitations.
Women and girl newspaper-sellers have become familiar figures in Paris, and their number is increasing steadily as the needs of the army are depriving more and more families of their bread-winners.
She had listened all through breakfast hoping to hear the dread news being shouted outside; yes, and more or less during the long discussion which had followed on the receipt of Margaret's letter she had been hoping hoping against hope that those dreadful triumphant shouts of the newspaper-sellers still might come echoing down the Marylebone Road.
I'll just run out and send another saying you won't come, Miss Daisy." And then the strangest smile came over Mrs. Bunting's face. There had fallen on her ear the still distant, but unmistakable, shouts which betokened that something had happened last night something which made it worth while for the newspaper-sellers to come crying down the Marylebone Road.
But it was not safe to read your treasure at a front window or anywhere where you might be overlooked. Sometimes these newspaper-sellers grew bold and transacted this business too openly and then there was trouble. One evening some of the nurses were at Benediction at the Carmelite Church, when a wretched newspaper lad rushed into the church and hid himself in a Confessional.
"He said something silly to me just in keeping with his character-like, and it upset me. Besides, I feel better now." As she was sipping gratefully her cup of tea, there came a noise outside, the shouts of newspaper-sellers. "I'll just run out," said Bunting apologetically, "and see what happened at that inquest to-day. Besides, they may have a clue about the horrible affair last night.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking