As he passed Charing Cross on his way westwards, his little boots trailed slowly over the pavement, his head hung languid (bending lower still, and smiling with faded sweetness as he doffed his hat and saluted a passing carriage), his umbrella trailed after him.

Not a dandy on all the Pall Mall pavement seemed to have less to do than he.
Heavyside, a large young officer of the household troops--old Sir Thomas de Boots--and Horace Fogey, whom every one knows--are in the window of Bays's, yawning as widely as that window itself.

Horses under the charge of men in red jackets are pacing up and down St.James's Street.

Cabmen on the stand are regaling with beer.

Gentlemen with grooms behind them pass towards the Park.