He thought of the "man with black, snaky eyes," who "took penn'orths" all the way from the Elephant to Whitehall.
And now he, Brett, took a penn'orth to the Elephant.

The 'bus reached that famous centre of humanity, passing thence through Newington Butts to the Kennington Park Road.
In the latter thoroughfare the girl skipped down from the roof, and disdaining the conductor's offer to stop, swung herself lightly to the ground.

The barrister followed, and soon found himself tracking her along a curved street of dingy houses.
Into one of these she vanished.

It chanced to be opposite a gas-lamp, and as he walked past he made out the number--37.
Externally it was exactly like its neighbours, dull, soiled, pinched, old curtains, worn blinds, blistered paint.

He knew that if he walked inside he would tread on a strip of oilcloth, once gay in red and yellow squares, but now worn to a dirty grey uniformity.