large/11252/lizaoflambeth_1704_librivox_64kb_mp3/lizaoflambeth_10_maugham_64kb_18
large/11252/lizaoflambeth_1704_librivox_64kb_mp3/lizaoflambeth_10_maugham_64kb
English
11252
It was about half past eleven, and the station was unusually quiet; a few passengers, in wraps and overcoats, were walking to and fro, waiting for the last train, and one or two porters were standing about yawning. IT WAS ABOUT HALF PAST ELEVEN AND THE STATION WAS UNUSUALLY QUIET A FEW PASSENGERS IN WRAPS AND OVERCOATS WERE WALKING TO AND FRO WAITING FOR THE LAST TRAIN BUT ONE OR TWO PORTERS WERE STANDING ABOUT YAWNING
p her body, till she shivered, and for warmth pressed herself close against Jim. Sometimes they would go into the third-class waiting-rooms at Waterloo or Charing Cross and sit there, but it was not like the park or the Embankment on summer nights; they had warmth, but the heat made their wet clothes steam and smell, and the gas flared in their eyes, and they hated the people perpetually coming in and out, opening the doors and letting in a blast of cold air; they hated the noise of the guards and porters shouting out the departure of the trains, the shrill whistling of the steam-engine, the hurry and bustle and confusion. About eleven o'clock, when the trains grew less frequent, they got some quietness; but then their minds were troubled, and they felt heavy, sad and miserable. One evening they had been sitting at Waterloo Station; it was foggy outside--a thick, yellow November fog, which filled the waiting-room, entering the lungs, and making the mouth taste nasty and the eyes smart. AND THE DAMP WOULD COME IN AND CHILL HER LEGS AND CREEP UP HER BODY TILL SHE SHIVERED AND FOR WARMTH PRESSED HERSELF CLOSE AGAINST JIM SOMETIMES THEY WOULD GO INTO THE THIRD CLASS WAITING ROOMS AT WATERLOO OR CHARING CROSS AND SIT THERE BUT IT WAS NOT LIKE THE PAR OR THE EMBANKMENT ON SUMMER NIGHTS THEY HAD WARMTH BUT THE HEAT MADE THEIR WET CLOTHES STEAM AND SMELL AND THE GAS FLARED IN THEIR EYES AND THEY HATED THE PEOPLE PERPETUALLY COMING IN AND OUT OPENING THE DOORS AND LETTING IN A BLAST OF COLD AIR THEY HATED THE NOISE OF THE GUARDS AND PORTERS SHOUTING OUT THE DEPARTURE OF THE TRAINS THE SHRILL WHISTLING OF THE STEAM ENGINE THE HURRY AND BUSTLE AND CONFUSION ABOUT ELEVEN O'CLOCK WHEN THE TRAINS GREW LESS FREQUENT THEY GOT SOME QUIETNESS BUT THEN THEIR MINDS WERE TROUBLED AND THEY FELT HEAVY SAD AND MISERABLE ONE EVENING THEY HAD BEEN SITTING AT WATERLOO STATION IT WAS FOGGY OUTSIDE A THICK YELLOW NOVEMBER FOG ENTERING THE LUNGS AND MAKING THE MOUTH TASTE NASTY AND THE EYES SMART
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