Explore "The Indian Bangle" by Fergus Hume on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
For various reasons, Mallow had not taken up his abode in the same hotel as Olive. He had found a clean, unpretentious, little place near the station, which suited him well enough in his present mood. Here he ate a solitary dinner, cooked and served in thoroughly English style. Invariably fastidious over his food, Laurence was not now inclined to be any more particular about it than he was about his lodging. He ate but little. A good cigar and some strong black coffee, he felt, would do more for him just now than any food. He inquired from the waiter how the trains ran to London, for he had no doubt that on the morrow it would be necessary for him to use them. Curiously enough the waiter knew all about the trains, notwithstanding the fact that he was an aboriginal as well as a waiter.
"On'y two decent ones from 'ere to Lunnon," said this Ganymede; "you'll see 'em, sir, in the time-tables. There's one leaves ten 'o the mornin', an' another at six at night. You gits to Lunnon in about three hours; so, yer see, they ain't express like even then."