Explore "Percival's Picture Gallery" by Charlotte Maria Tucker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"SHALL I go to Percival to-day or not? " was the question which I asked myself as I looked out-not for first or second time that morning-from the window, dimmed by pattering rain.
The day was one of the worse to be seen, even in London; the sky blotted out by dense smoke; the pavement brown and wet, and the road all mud; the rain pouring down incessantly; and the wind howling dismally in the chimneys. Now and then a foot-passenger hurried past, struggling to prevent his dripping umbrella from being turned inside out by the gale.