Explore "Whatsoever a Man Soweth" by William Le Queux on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Thursday night was wet and dismal in London as I stood outside the underground railway station at King's Cross at eight o'clock, keeping my appointment with the Honourable Sybil.
There was a good deal of traffic and bustle in the Pentonville Road; the shops were still open, and the working-class population, notwithstanding the rain, were out with their baskets, making their purchases after their day's labour.