Explore "Big Foot" by Edgar Wallace on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The street lamps had been lit and the last glow of light was fading from the west, when Ferraby's big Bentley shot down the main street of a countrified suburb and pulled up before the most rustic of all London police headquarters. Sooper was in his tiny office, discussing a large and indigestible wedge of pie and a steaming mug of cocoa. He looked up and pointed to a chair.
-"Sit down, won't you?" he said indistinctly. And when at last he had swallowed at a gulp the scalding contents of the mug, and wiped his lips on a handkerchief that had seen better days, he took a box of cigars from the drawer of his desk and offered the interior to Jim.