In the Emporium

           "SolastJanuary,withthebeginningofasnowstormintheairaboutme—andifitsettledonmeitwouldbetrayme!—weary,cold,painful,inexpressiblywretched,andstillbuthalfconvincedofmyinvisiblequality,IbeganthisnewlifetowhichIamcommitted. Ihadnorefuge,noappliances,nohumanbeingintheworldinwhomIcouldconfide. Tohavetoldmysecretwouldhavegivenmeaway—madeamereshowandrarityofme. Nevertheless,Iwashalf-mindedtoaccostsomepasser-byandthrowmyselfuponhismercy. ButIknewtooclearlytheterrorandbrutalcrueltymyadvanceswouldevoke. Imadenoplansinthestreet. Mysoleobjectwastogetshelterfromthesnow,togetmyselfcoveredandwarm;thenImighthopetoplan. Buteventome,anInvisibleMan,therowsofLondonhousesstoodlatched,barred,andboltedimpregnably. 

           "OnlyonethingcouldIseeclearlybeforeme—thecoldexposureandmiseryofthesnowstormandthenight. 

           "AndthenIhadabrilliantidea. IturneddownoneoftheroadsleadingfromGowerStreettoTottenhamCourtRoad,andfoundmyselfoutsideOmniums,thebigestablishmentwhereeverythingistobebought—youknowtheplace: meat,grocery,linen,furniture,clothing,oilpaintingseven—ahugemeanderingcollectionofshopsratherthanashop. IhadthoughtIshouldfindthedoorsopen,buttheywereclosed,andasIstoodinthewideentranceacarriagestoppedoutside,andamaninuniform—youknowthekindofpersonagewith'Omnium'onhiscap—flungopenthedoor.