M. B. Croker | Akateeminen Kirjakauppa

1914. With a frontispiece. The book begins: It was four o'clock on a cheerless February afternoon; a hopeless drizzle descended upon London, and a gaunt old woman, wrapped in a knitted shawl, stood at the window of a boardinghouse, peering into the street. Although she nodded her head, and blinked her eyes approvingly, there was not much to see-in fact, the outlook was as dull and devoid of interest as the lady's own existence. A row of ugly houses, a leaden sky, a scanty procession of umbrellas, cabs, and carts, and one miserable lost dog, frightened and famishing.