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Chapter 2
The streets are clean as a ball-room floor; the lamps unshaken by any wind, drawing a regular pattern of light and shadow. The shops were closed, the by street was very solitary, and, in spite of the low grown of London from all around, very silent. Small sounds carried far; domestic sounds out of the houses were clearly audible on either side of the roadway. Round the corner from the by street there was a square of ancient, handsome houses, now for the most part decayed from their high estate. One house, however, second from the corner, was still occupied entire; the door of this which wore a great air of wealth and comfort, though it was now plunged in darkness except for the fan-light.
Chapter 4The street were full of a marvellous number of degrees and hues of twilight; for here it would the dark like the back-hand of evening; and there would be a glow of a rich, lurid brown, like the light of some strange conflagration; and here, for a moment, the fog would be quite broken up, and a haggard shaft of daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths. The dismal quarter of Soho seen under these changing glimpses, with its muddy ways, and slatternly passengers, and its lamps, which had never been extinguished on had been kindled afresh to combat this mournful reinvasion of darkness seemed like a district of some city in a nightmare.
Chapter 8The square, when they got there, was all full of wind and dust, and the thin trees in the garden were lashing themselves along the railing. |