Explore "The Postmaster of Market Deignton" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It is late at night when my hansom pulls up at No. 8, Little Brook Street, but there are still lights at the upper and lower windows, so I do not hesitate to pull the bell. The door is opened at once by a grey-haired manservant in plain livery.
"What name, sir?" he asks, peering out into the darkness.