The craters in the Strand were a bore, but the wags had put up signs beside the deepest: GRAND CANYON, and JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH, TWO SHILLINGS AND SIXPENCE. London slipped by with no trouble, parting its late-morning crowds around her. It smelled of all the smokes promiscuously: cigarette, pipe, locomotive, house coal, and roof joist. At the theater the huge portico was pocked by shrapnel but otherwise unharmed. The manager told her that Zachary was out, but Mary went down to the basement anyway, since she supposed he could not stop her. He would hardly lay hands on her.Underground, the empty dance floor was sticky with sweat and beer. The electric bulbs—their array much degraded—interfered with the fraying light of the morphine. She had a small jolt of feeling, but it didn’t have to last. She picked her way between the unmatched tables and chairs. The basement was deserted but there were children’s voices coming from the bar on the far side. She made her way over.The bar was of rough wood and everywhere reinforced, a certain amount of dancing upon it being inevitable.
What do You think about Everyone Brave Is Forgiven?
