Explore "The Cat's Eye" by R. Austin Freeman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was close on half-past eleven when our train drew up in Wendover Station. We had just finished our rather premature lunch and had packed up the luncheon baskets and placed them on the seats; and now, lifting down the suitcase and the plane table with its folding tripod, stepped out on to the platform.
'I wonder,' said I, 'if Blake has sent any kind of conveyance for us. I don't suppose he has.'