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           "TheyhaveeverythinginLondon."AndhedownedtheScotch,andafterthatsomeoneboughthimanother,andthentheeveningblurredandbrokeupintofragments:afterwardherememberedonlythefeelingthathewasabouttoleavesomewheresmallandrational—aplacethatmadesense—forsomewherehugeandoldthatdidn’t;andvomitinginterminablyintoagutterflowingwithrainwater,somewhereinthesmallhoursofthemorning;andawhiteshapemarkedwithstrange-coloredsymbols,likealittleroundbeetle,walkingawayfromhimintherain.

           Thenextmorningheboardedthetrainforthesix-hourjourneysouththatwouldbringhimtothestrangegothicspiresandarchesofSt.PancrasStation.Hismothergavehimasmallwalnutcakethatshehadmadeforthejourneyandathermosfilledwithtea;andRichardMayhewwenttoLondonfeelinglikehell.