Things have gone amiss with me in London, and I've been more than once sorely tempted to make an end of my difficulties with a razor or a few drops of prussic acid; but when I saw the dull gray streets and the square gray houses, and the empty market-place, and the Baptist chapel, and the Unitarian chapel, and the big stony church, and heard the dreary bells ding-donging for evening service, I wondered how I could ever have existed a week in such a place.

I had rather sweep a crossing in London than occupy the best house in Barlingford, and I told Tom Halliday so." "And Tom is coming to London I understand by your letter." "Yes, he has sold Hyley, and wants to find a place in the west of England.

The north doesn't suit his chest.

He and Georgy are coming up to town for a few weeks, so I've asked them to stay here.

I may as well make some use of the house, for it's very little good in a professional sense." "Humph!" muttered George; "I don't see your motive." "I have no particular motive.