I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. ” She peered at him through the semi-blackness. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought.
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