| 100 | 101 | 102 | 103 | 104 |
| 1 | 65 | 130 | 195 | 260 |
|
Chichester is a walled city. In passing, he made inquiries at the Black
Swan, the Crown, and the Red Lion Hotel. At six o'clock in the evening,
he was walking downcast, intent, as one who had dropped money, along
the road towards Bognor, kicking up the dust with his shoes and fretting
with disappointed pugnacity. A thwarted, crestfallen Hoopdriver it
was, as you may well imagine. And then suddenly there jumped upon his
attention--a broad line ribbed like a shilling, and close beside it
one chequered, that ever and again split into two. "Found!" said Mr.
Hoopdriver and swung round on his heel at once, and back to the Royal
George, helter skelter, for the bicycle they were minding for him. The
ostler thought he was confoundedly imperious, considering his machine.
102
Page
Quick Jump
|