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Updated: June 12, 2025
"No, dear, I don't!" said Mrs. Creswick; "I mean nothing of the sort. Never mind!" When Mrs. Creswick said "Never mind!" Miss Townly usually got up to go. She got up to go now, and went forth into Sloane Street meditating, as she would have expressed it, "profoundly." Meanwhile Artois went back to the Hans Crescent Hotel on foot.
At the top of the great Sloane laboratory of Yale University, in an experimenting room lined with curious apparatus, I found Professor Arthur W. Wright experimenting with the wonderful Röntgen rays.
The organ woman plied her handle slowly; she had been grinding her tune all day-grinding it in Sloane Street hard by, grinding it perhaps to Bosinney himself. Soames turned, took a cigarette from the carven box, and walked back to the window.
"That means we'll be losing him soon, I suppose." "They're not going before September," said Mrs. Sloane. "It will be a great loss to the community . . . though I always did think that Mrs. Allan dressed rather too gay for a minister's wife. But we are none of us perfect. Did you notice how neat and snug Mr. Harrison looked today? I never saw such a changed man.
And he thinks it will be horrid to wear dresses and I think so too. Why can't men angels wear trousers, Anne? Chester Sloane is interested in those things, 'cause they're going to make a minister of him. He's got to be a minister 'cause his grandmother left the money to send him to college and he can't have it unless he is a minister.
She led the way back to the bachelor sitting-room, and for some little time Dick amused them greatly with his experiences over editors and magazines, and then the two went off together to Lorraine's flat. At this time she was living at the bottom of Lower Sloane Street, with windows looking over the river, and it was generally supposed that her mother lived with her. As a matter of fact, Mrs.
John Hare at the Court Theater, Sloane Square. I had learned a great deal at the Prince of Wales's, notably that the art of playing in modern plays in a tiny theater was quite different from the art of playing in the classics in a big theater. The methods for big and little theaters are alike, yet quite unlike.
Barney looked at the old blue plaid shawl with utter disgust and revulsion. He had always felt a loathing for the woman, and her being a distant relative on his father's side intensified it. Mrs. Sloane threw open the door, and bade them enter, as if to a festival. "Walk right in," said she. There was a wild flutter of hens as they entered. Mrs. Sloane drove them before her.
Durlacher offered, as they stood by the side of the shivering taxi. "I'm going out to Sloane Street." "Oh no, thank you; it's very good of you. I'm going to catch a train at Waterloo." She shook hands, then held out her hand quietly to Traill. "Good-bye, Mr. Traill." He took her hand and held it with meaning. "Good-bye."
"What is it?" the old man croaked. "It is," said the acolyte, "the heart of the toad that dwelt once in Arabia and by the mountains of Bethany." The old man's crooked fingers closed on it, and he blessed the acolyte with his rasping voice and claw-like hand uplifted; the motor-bus rumbled above on its endless journey; far off the train shook Sloane Street.
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