Gianfrancesco had been talked into the arrangement only because the drivers that had handled the job for generations were sick or dead. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. ‘The place was full of barbers and military men. You desert your home; I throw up useful teaching, risk every hope in your career.
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