And down below they enjoyed themselves.

One understood life better; they better how to live.
That struck me then--in Oxford Street.

There was the intense good-humour, the absolute disregard of the minor inconveniences, of the inconveniences of a crowd, of the ignominy of being one of a crowd.
There was the intense poetry of the soft light, the poetry of the summer-night coolness, and they understood how to enjoy it.

I turned up an ancient court near Bedford Row.
"In the name of God," I said, "I will enjoy ..." and I did.

The poetry of those old deserted quarters came suddenly home to me--all the little commonplace thoughts; all the commonplace associations of Georgian London.