One day when Wattie and I were crossing Leadenhall Street we were halted by a Bobby to let a carriage pass. The wheels grazed our impatient haste. We looked up petulantly into the carriage and our eyes met those of Queen Victoria, smiling down on us. Chatter ceased, our…
I took my letter from the rack and read it while waiting for Mrs. Dodds, my landlady, to finish totting up a long row of figures. I liked going down to pay my weekly board. Mrs. Dodds’ office was cosy, she was kindly. She knew London like a book…
Mrs. Radcliffe’s surgeon-cousin advised a surgical support in my shoe. “I will take her to my own shoe-man in Regent Street,” said Mrs. Radcliffe and off we went. My foot was very sore, very painful to the touch, for a long time after the operation. I said to the…
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