The Murder of Patience Brooke (2014)
“There had been no cab at Shepherd’s Bush so he had been forced to return on the green omnibus, and there were no seats inside. He had been obliged to climb on to the roof of the carriage and take an uncomfortable ride on the ‘knife-board’, that narrow, uncomfortable seat on top. It had come on to rain, too, and he had endured a jolting ride next to a thin, gloomy-looking carpenter who seemed to be made of pieces of wood which poked him in the side at every bump. And sneaking drops of rain managed to insinuate themselves down his upturned collar to trickle coldly down his neck.
He took off his sodden coat and ruined hat, and went upstairs to the drawing room. The fire-dappled room looked snug. Catherine, her eyes closed, lay on the sofa with the baby in its bassinette beside her and there was little Alfred, aged three and a few months, sitting at the end of the sofa staring solemnly at the fire. Francis, aged five, was sitting on the carpet playing with a wooden horse. Dickens went ove...r to his wife and lifted Alfred up to sit him on his knee.MoreLess
He took off his sodden coat and ruined hat, and went upstairs to the drawing room. The fire-dappled room looked snug. Catherine, her eyes closed, lay on the sofa with the baby in its bassinette beside her and there was little Alfred, aged three and a few months, sitting at the end of the sofa staring solemnly at the fire. Francis, aged five, was sitting on the carpet playing with a wooden horse. Dickens went ove...r to his wife and lifted Alfred up to sit him on his knee.MoreLess
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