Explore "No more Parades" by Ford Madox Ford on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
She found an early opportunity to carry on her investigations. For, at dinner that night, she found herself, Tietjens having gone to the telephone with a lance-corporal, opposite what she took to be a small tradesman, with fresh-coloured cheeks, and a great, grey, forward-sprouting moustache, in a uniform so creased that the creases resembled the veins of a leaf. A very trustworthy small tradesman: the grocer from round the corner whom, sometimes, you allow to supply you with paraffin. He was saying to her:
"If, ma'am, you multiply two-thousand nine hundred and something by ten you arrive at twenty-nine thousand odd."