If you'll tell me the direction--" "Sit still, stranger.

I'm going right past the Imperial.

Hardly any place in Coombe you can go without going past the Imperial.

It's what you call a kind of newclus." As he spoke, the horse, now going at a fairly respectable rate, turned into the main street of the town; a main street, thriftily prosperous but now somewhat a-doze in the sun.

Half-way down, the intelligent animal stopped with another jerk for which the doctor was equally ill-prepared.