Matt Donahue
Bro. Rob Peach
ENG 141. British Lit
September 5, 2007
“The Busy Quarters of London”
The two men happened to find their way to a side street in a pact selection of London. The roadway was narrow and is often hushed with silence, but it dramatically changes because of the busy market during the weekdays. The local residence looked as though they were prospering, and they all dreamt of more success; and displaying all their goods; so that the shop beginnings stood forth that conduit with a permutation, like rows of smiling saleswomen. Even on the start of the week, when it covered up its more figurative charms and lay constantly empty of passage, the road was dull in contrast to its gloomy neighborhood, like poison ivy spreading on an infant; and with its newly painted shutters, shiny brasses, ordinary cleanliness and radiance of note, immediately caught and enlighten the eye of the passenger.
Several entrances after the first corner, going towards my left, opposite the setting sun, the space was broken by the entrance to an open area; and right at that moment, and unexpected piece of the structure dropped its gable onto the roadway. It was two floors high; with only one door on the first floor and a front blank muted wall on the second floor; and ingrained in every aspect, evidence of ever-present neglected and degraded. The door, which had no ringer or knocker, was peeling, ugly and worn. Vagabonds slithered into the crevices and lit matches on the panels; young adolescents maintained order on the steps; the adolescent pupil used his blade, carving in moldings; and for some twenty years, no authority figure disrupted this juvenile behavior or cared to act upon it.
Mr. Enfield and the attorney were across the street; but when they arrived at the opening, then Mr. Enfield indicated with his walking stick.
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