Only Mr. Dale would get
lost on the journey, and a queer shabby customer would emerge at the
other end.
But he allowed himself to modify the plan slightly. It was necessary
that he should have a good meal and also procure food to take with
him, and for these purposes he went to an eating-house in the York
Road. This turned out to be just the place he required--a room with
tables where diners could sit as long as they chose, a counter spread
out with edibles to be absorbed standing, and the company consisting
of cabmen from the station ranks, some railway porters, and a few
humble travelers.
He ordered a large beef-steak; and he ate like a boa-constrictor,
thinking the while: "This ought to stick to my ribs. I can't put away
too much now, because it may come to short commons if the luck's
against me." Then after the meal there came a temptation to hurry up
his program, and get through some of the little difficulties at once.
He observed his surroundings. The place was fuller now than when he
came in; the atmosphere was thick with tobacco smoke and the steam of
hot food; the kitchen was at its busiest; and at the counter the
stupid-looking girl in charge was handing over refreshments so fast
that it seemed as if soon there would be none left.
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