Some day he would have another look at Quodling the broker, who so strongly resembled Mrs.Clover's husband.
Both of them, it seemed, bore a likeness to some profligate aristocrat.
Just the kind of thing to interest that queer fish Greenacre.
In the height of the London season nothing pleased Gammon more than to survey the streets from an omnibus.

Being just now a man of leisure he freely indulged himself, spending an hour or two each day in the liveliest thoroughfares.

It was a sure way of forgetting his cares.
Sometimes he took a box place and chatted with the driver, or he made acquaintances, male and female, on the cosy cross seats just broad enough for two.

The London panorama under a sky of June feasted his laughing eyes.

Now he would wave a hand to a friend on the pavement or borne past on another bus; now he would chuckle at a bit of comedy in real life.