Explore "Whatsoever a Man Soweth" by William Le Queux on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Three weeks went by -- dull, dreary weeks of constant anxiety. With the assistance of Eric -- to whom I had, of course, explained the tragic incident in the home of John Parham -- I was ever on the alert, compelled to go down to Neate Street at infrequent intervals in secret from Eric and pose for a few hours in the daytime as the husband of little Mrs Morton.
Poor Tibbie led a dreary life in that drab mean street. Mrs Williams was kind and pleasant, pitying the young wife so constantly separated from her husband. But if my work took me away, well, she ought not to grumble, the good woman declared. There were lots of compositors out of work she had heard, now that those linotypes were so universally adopted. And so she cheered Tibbie up, and the latter sought distraction by doing fancy needlework.