They'll go on somewhere; stick about half the night playing poker, or some such foolery." He crossed over to the window.

Rain had begun to fall; the streets looked wild and draughty.

The cabmen were putting on their coats.

Two women scurried by, huddled under one umbrella, and a thin-clothed, dogged-looking scarecrow lounged past with a surly, desperate step.

Shelton, returning to his chair, threaded his way amongst his fellow-members.