There was a Bohemian flavour in the little walk
to the great fruit garden, which was odorous of bruised peaches and
stale salads as they passed it. Waggon-loads of cabbages and other
garden stuff were standing about by the old church; the roadway was
littered with the refuse of the market; and the air was faint and heavy
with the scent of herbs and flowers.
Lesbia mounted lightly to her place of honour on the box-seat; and Lady
Kirkbank was hoisted up after her. Mr. and Mrs. Mostyn followed; and
then Don Gomez took his seat by Lady Kirkbank's side and behind Lesbia,
a vantage point from which he could talk to her as much as he liked. Mr.
Smithson seated himself a minute afterwards, and drove off by King
Street and Leicester Square and on to Piccadilly, steering cleverly
through the traffic of cabs and carriages, which was at its apogee just
now, when all the theatres were disgorging their crowds. Piccadilly was
quieter, yet there were plenty of carriages, late people going to
parties and early people going home, horses slipping and sliding on
stones or wood, half the roadway up, and luminous with lanterns.
Pages:
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711