occur again.'

But usually, on arriving, Mr Clinton took off his tail-coat and put on a
jacket, manufactured from the office paper a pair of false cuffs to keep
his own clean, and having examined the nibs in both his penholders and
sharpened his pencil, set to work. From then till one o'clock he
remained at his desk, solemnly poring over figures, casting accounts,
comparing balance-sheets, writing letters, occasionally going for some
purpose or another into the clerks' office or into the room of one of
the partners. At one he went to luncheon, taking with him the portion
of his _Daily Telegraph_ which he was in the habit of reading during
that meal. He went to an A. B. C. shop and ordered a roll and butter, a
cup of chocolate and a scone. He divided his pat of butter into two, one
half being for the roll and the other for the scone; he drank one moiety
of the cup of chocolate after eating the roll, and the other after
eating the scone. Meanwhile he read pages three and four of the _Daily
Telegraph_. At a quarter to two he folded the paper, put down sixpence
in payment, and slowly walked back to the office. He returned to his
desk and there spent the afternoon solemnly poring over figures, casting
accounts, comparing balance-sheets, writing letters, occasionally going
for some purpose or another into the clerks' office or into the room of
one of the partners. At ten minutes to six he wiped his pens and put
them back in the tray, tidied his desk and locked his drawer. He took
off his paper cuffs, washed his hands, wiped his face, brushed his hair,
arranging the long whisps over the occipital baldness, and combed his
whiskers. At six he left the office, caught the six-seventeen train from
Ludgate Hill, and thus made his way back to Camberwell and the bosom of
his family.

III

On Sunday, Mr Clinton put on Sunday clothes, and heading the little
procession formed by Mrs Clinton and the two children, went to church,
carrying in his hand a prayer book and a hymn book. After dinner he took
a little walk with his wife along the neighbouring roads, avenues and
crescents, examining the exterior of the houses, stopping now and then
to look at a garden or a well-kept house, or trying to get a peep into
some room. Mr and Mrs Clinton criticised as they went along, comparing
the window curtains, blaming a door in want of paint, praising a
well-whitened doorstep....

The Clintons lived in the fifth house down in the Adonis Road, a