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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. The neighbourhood of Bloomsbury Square towards four o'clock of a November afternoon is not so crowded as to secure to the stranger, of appearance anything out of the common, immunity from observation. Tibb's boy, screaming at the top of his voice that she was his honey, stopped suddenly, stepped backwards on to the toes of a voluble young lady wheeling a perambulator, and remained deaf, apparently, to the somewhat personal remarks of the voluble young lady. Not until he had reached the next corner- and then more as a soliloquy than as information to the street- did Tibb's boy recover sufficient interest in his own affairs to remark that he was her bee. The voluble young lady herself, following some half-a-dozen yards behind, forgot her wrongs in contemplation of the stranger's back. There was this that was peculiar about the stranger's back: that instead of being flat it presented a decided curve. "It ain't a 'ump, and it don't look like kervitcher of the spine, " observed the voluble young lady to herself

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	27 septembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819929291
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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PASSING OF THE THIRD FLOOR BACK
By Jerome K. Jerome
The neighbourhood of Bloomsbury Square towards fouro'clock of a November afternoon is not so crowded as to secure tothe stranger, of appearance anything out of the common, immunityfrom observation. Tibb's boy, screaming at the top of his voicethat she was his honey, stopped suddenly, stepped backwardson to the toes of a voluble young lady wheeling a perambulator, andremained deaf, apparently, to the somewhat personal remarks of thevoluble young lady. Not until he had reached the next corner— andthen more as a soliloquy than as information to the street— didTibb's boy recover sufficient interest in his own affairs to remarkthat he was her bee. The voluble young lady herself,following some half-a-dozen yards behind, forgot her wrongs incontemplation of the stranger's back. There was this that waspeculiar about the stranger's back: that instead of being flat itpresented a decided curve. “It ain't a 'ump, and it don't look likekervitcher of the spine, ” observed the voluble young lady toherself. “Blimy if I don't believe 'e's taking 'ome 'is washing uphis back. ”
The constable at the corner, trying to seem busydoing nothing, noticed the stranger's approach with gatheringinterest. “That's an odd sort of a walk of yours, young man, ”thought the constable. “You take care you don't fall down andtumble over yourself. ”
“Thought he was a young man, ” murmured theconstable, the stranger having passed him. “He had a young faceright enough. ”
The daylight was fading. The stranger, finding itimpossible to read the name of the street upon the corner house,turned back.
“Why, 'tis a young man, ” the constable toldhimself; “a mere boy. ”
“I beg your pardon, ” said the stranger; “but wouldyou mind telling me my way to Bloomsbury Square. ”
“This is Bloomsbury Square, ” explained theconstable; “leastways round the corner is. What number might you bewanting? ”
The stranger took from the ticket pocket of histightly buttoned overcoat a piece of paper, unfolded it and read itout: “Mrs. Pennycherry. Number Forty-eight. ”
“Round to the left, ” instructed him the constable;“fourth house. Been recommended there? ”
“By— by a friend, ” replied the stranger. “Thank youvery much. ”
“Ah, ” muttered the constable to himself; “guess youwon't be calling him that by the end of the week, young— ”
“Funny, ” added the constable, gazing after theretreating figure of the stranger. “Seen plenty of the other sex aslooked young behind and old in front. This cove looks young infront and old behind. Guess he'll look old all round if he stopslong at mother Pennycherry's: stingy old cat. ”
Constables whose beat included Bloomsbury Square hadtheir reasons for not liking Mrs. Pennycherry. Indeed it might havebeen difficult to discover any human being with reasons for likingthat sharp-featured lady. Maybe the keeping of second-rate boardinghouses in the neighbourhood of Bloomsbury does not tend to developthe virtues of generosity and amiability.
Meanwhile the stranger, proceeding upon his way, hadrung the bell of Number Forty-eight. Mrs. Pennycherry, peeping fromthe area and catching a glimpse, above the railings, of a handsomeif somewhat effeminate masculine face, hastened to readjust herwidow's cap before the looking-glass while directing Mary Jane toshow the stranger, should he prove a problematical boarder, intothe dining-room, and to light the gas.
“And don't stop gossiping, and don't you take itupon yourself to answer questions. Say I'll be up in a minute, ”were Mrs. Pennycherry's further instructions, “and mind you hideyour hands as much as you can. ”
*** “What are you grinning at? ” demanded Mrs.Pennycherry, a couple of minutes later, of the dingy Mary Jane.
“Wasn't grinning, ” explained the meek Mary Jane,“was only smiling to myself. ”
“What at? ”
“Dunno, ” admitted Mary Jane. But still she went onsmiling.
“What's he like then? ” demanded Mrs.Pennycherry.
“'E ain't the usual sort, ” was Mary Jane'sopinion.
“Thank God for that, ” ejaculated Mrs. Pennycherrypiously.
“Says 'e's been recommended, by a friend. ”
“By whom? ”
“By a friend. 'E didn't say no name. ” Mrs.Pennycherry pondered. “He's not the funny sort, is he? ”
Not that sort at all. Mary Jane was sure of it.
Mrs. Pennycherry ascended the stairs stillpondering. As she entered the room the stranger rose and bowed.Nothing could have been simpler than the stranger's bow, yet therecame with it to Mrs. Pennycherry a rush of old sensations longforgotten. For one brief moment Mrs. Pennycherry saw herself anamiable well-bred lady, widow of a solicitor: a visitor had calledto see her. It was but a momentary fancy. The next instant Realityreasserted itself. Mrs. Pennycherry, a lodging-house keeper,existing precariously upon a daily round of petty meannesses, wasprepared for contest with a possible new boarder, who fortunatelylooked an inexperienced young gentleman.
“Someone has recommended me to you, ” began Mrs.Pennycherry; “may I ask who? ”
But the stranger waved the question aside asimmaterial.
“You might not remember— him, ” he smiled. “Hethought that I should do well to pass the few months I am given—that I have to be in London, here. You can take me in? ”
Mrs. Pennycherry thought that she would be able totake the stranger in.
“A room to sleep in, ” explained the stranger, “—any room will do— with food and drink sufficient for a man, is allthat I require. ”
“For breakfast, ” began Mrs. Pennycherry, “I alwaysgive— ”
“What is right and proper, I am convinced, ”interrupted the stranger. “Pray do not trouble to go into detail,Mrs. Pennycherry. With whatever it is I shall be content.

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