Gunman's Bluff by Edgar Wallace

The storm that swept on London found at least two people unprepared. Luke Maddison was cheery. He had been formally forgiven -- the marriage was to be quiet, and only a few guests were to be invited. He had only a few minutes before arranged his train reservations -- no secretary should perform that sacred duty!

His heart would have sung a gay song even if every thick flake of snow burned as it touched his face. The flower girl shifted the strap of her basket from one shoulder to another and gazed with dismay upon the tumbling white fog that descended upon St. James's Street, blotting out every landmark. You could not see from one side of the street to the other. Almost instantly the ground was thick where the white flakes lay. But for their asthmatic engines one would not have known that such things as motor busses were passing.