ONE:I had walked another three miles, when a big crowd of fugitives met me. They seemed to have come a long way, for the majority could hardly walk on, and had taken off their shoes and boots, on account of the scorching heat, going on barefooted in the shade of the tall trees. It was a procession, numbering hundreds of men, women, and children. The aged were supported, the babies carried. Most of them had a small parcel on their back or under their arm. They seemed tired to death, had dark red faces, and betrayed great fear and nervousness. I crossed the road to speak to them, and as soon as they noticed it the whole crowd, numbering hundreds of people, stood still, creeping closer together, women and girls trying hard to hide themselves behind the men, and these doffed their caps timidly.
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ONE:"Well, one hears some queer things," the novelist said at length. "I've been fascinated with that corner house for years. As I told you before, I built up a romance round it. Some day I mean to take the papers out of my pigeonhole and work it up."Gracious-to-gravy! exclaimed Larry, you dont believe in ghosts, do you, Sandy? Not really!
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ONE:As these shop processes or operations are more or less connected, and run one into the other, it will be necessary at the beginning to give a short summary of them, stating the general object of each, that may serve to render the detailed remarks more intelligible to the reader as he comes to them in their consecutive order."Well, I study you. Then I begin to see my way. It was only the kind of idea that would creep into the brain of a novelist who does not scruple to endow even his most intimate friends with ferocious qualities for business purposes. But I allowed myself to think that the reason why you had come to Lytton Avenue was because you were in some way interested in the Corner House. There you have the first faint indication of the shaping of the story.
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