" Bamboo and bead tinkled and slithered behind him. The hansom sped through the crowded streets. The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. ’ Kimble chewed his lip, but his hostility was visibly lessening. “Of course I will,” he answered. The winters were bitter here, they could have just as easily been frozen off. It’s just upon my lunch-time. I felt—wrapped in thick cobwebs. It has been very humiliating. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated.
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