Explore "Made to Measure" by W.W. Jacobs on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Mr. Mott brought his niece home from the station with considerable pride. Although he had received a photograph to assist identification, he had been very dubious about accosting the pretty, well-dressed girl who had stepped from the train and gazed around with dove-like eyes in search of him. Now he was comfortably conscious of the admiring gaze of his younger fellow-townsmen.
"You'll find it a bit dull after London, I expect," he remarked, as he inserted his key in the door of a small house in a quiet street.