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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Secret City"

I stopped at many shops and fingered the cheap silver toys, the
little blue and green Ikons, the buckles and beads and rosaries that
thronged the trays, but I could not find anything for Nina. Then
suddenly I saw a square box of mother-of-pearl and silver, so charming
and simple, the figures on the silver lid so gracefully carved that I
decided at once.
The Jew in charge of it wanted twice as much as I was ready to give, and
we argued for ten minutes before a kindly and appreciative crowd. At
last we arranged a compromise, and I moved away, pleased and satisfied.
I stepped out of the arcade and faced the little Square. It was, at that
instant, fantastic and oddly coloured; the sun, about to set, hung in
the misty sky a perfect round crimson globe, and it was perched, almost
maliciously, just above the tower of the little church.
The rest of the world was grey. The Square was a thick mass of human
beings so tightly wedged together that it seemed to move backwards and
forwards like a floor of black wood pushed by a lever. One lamp burnt
behind the window of the church, the old houses leaned forward as though
listening to the babel below their eaves.


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