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George
snatched
it
up
,
and
rushed
downstairs
.
In
the
sitting-room
,
all
was
dark
and
silent
:
there
was
no
fire
,
no
breakfast
.
George
said
it
was
a
wicked
shame
of
Mrs.
G.
,
and
he
made
up
his
mind
to
tell
her
what
he
thought
of
her
when
he
came
home
in
the
evening
.
Then
he
dashed
on
his
great-coat
and
hat
,
and
,
seizing
his
umbrella
,
made
for
the
front
door
.
The
door
was
not
even
unbolted
.
George
anathematized
Mrs.
G.
for
a
lazy
old
woman
,
and
thought
it
was
very
strange
that
people
could
not
get
up
at
a
decent
,
respectable
time
,
unlocked
and
unbolted
the
door
,
and
ran
out
.
He
ran
hard
for
a
quarter
of
a
mile
,
and
at
the
end
of
that
distance
it
began
to
be
borne
in
upon
him
as
a
strange
and
curious
thing
that
there
were
so
few
people
about
,
and
that
there
were
no
shops
open
.
It
was
certainly
a
very
dark
and
foggy
morning
,
but
still
it
seemed
an
unusual
course
to
stop
all
business
on
that
account
.
He
had
to
go
to
business
:
why
should
other
people
stop
in
bed
merely
because
it
was
dark
and
foggy
!
At
length
he
reached
Holborn
.
Not
a
shutter
was
down
!
not
a
bus
was
about
!
There
were
three
men
in
sight
,
one
of
whom
was
a
policeman
;
a
market-cart
full
of
cabbages
,
and
a
dilapidated
looking
cab
.
George
pulled
out
his
watch
and
looked
at
it
:
it
was
five
minutes
to
nine
!
He
stood
still
and
counted
his
pulse
.
He
stooped
down
and
felt
his
legs
.
Then
,
with
his
watch
still
in
his
hand
,
he
went
up
to
the
policeman
,
and
asked
him
if
he
knew
what
the
time
was
.
"
What
's
the
time
?
"
said
the
man
,
eyeing
George
up
and
down
with
evident
suspicion
;
"
why
,
if
you
listen
you
will
hear
it
strike
.
"
George
listened
,
and
a
neighbouring
clock
immediately
obliged
.
"
But
it
's
only
gone
three
!
"
said
George
in
an
injured
tone
,
when
it
had
finished
.
"
Well
,
and
how
many
did
you
want
it
to
go
?
"
replied
the
constable
.
"
Why
,
nine
,
"
said
George
,
showing
his
watch
.
"
Do
you
know
where
you
live
?
"
said
the
guardian
of
public
order
,
severely
.
