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Books for Sale |
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IT was a wet dark night, and the Stepney streets were running with water which reflected light in greasy streaks upon the ground, and made every shadowed doorway and narrow entry a pit of darkness. The streets were almost deserted, since it was that dead quarter of an hour before closing time when it is too late to be worth turning in and, once inside, one might as well stay in the dry for as long as possible. Perhaps, in another ten minutes, it would have left off raining. There was a public-house at the corner of a side-turning, its lighted windows laid shining golden squares upon the wet pavement and the racing gutter beyond; inside there came the sound of not very musical song while, outside, a leaking down-pipe threw a blatter of drops against the window panes, as the wind caught the thin stream, or let it fall unsteadily to the muddy flagstones below. |