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- Libros en formato PDF -
 Uneasy
Money
In a day in
June, at the hour when London moves abroad in
quest of lunch, a young man stood at the
entrance of the Bandolero Restaurant looking
earnestly up Shaftesbury Avenue—a large young
man in excellent condition, with a pleasant,
good-humoured, brown, clean-cut face. He paid no
attention to the stream of humanity that flowed
past him. His mouth was set and his eyes wore a
serious, almost a wistful expression. He was
frowning slightly. One would have said that here
was a man with a secret sorrow.
William FitzWilliam Delamere Chalmers, Lord
Dawlish, had no secret sorrow. All that he was
thinking of at that moment was the best method
of laying a golf ball dead in front of the
Palace Theatre. It was his habit to pass the
time in mental golf when Claire Fenwick was late
in keeping her appointments with him. On one
occasion she had kept him waiting so long that
he had been able to do nine holes, starting at
the Savoy Grill and finishing up near
Hammersmith. His was a simple mind, able to
amuse itself with simple things...
  Psmith,
Journalist
The man in the street would not have
known it, but a great crisis was imminent in New
York journalism.
Everything seemed much as usual in the city. The
cars ran blithely on Broadway. Newsboys shouted
"Wux-try!" into the ears of nervous pedestrians
with their usual Caruso-like vim. Society passed
up and down Fifth Avenue in its automobiles, and
was there a furrow of anxiety upon Society's
brow? None. At a thousand street corners a
thousand policemen preserved their air of
massive superiority to the things of this world.
Not one of them showed the least sign of
perturbation. Nevertheless, the crisis was at
hand. Mr. J. Fillken Wilberfloss, editor-in-chief
of Cosy Moments, was about to leave his post and
start on a ten weeks' holiday.
In New York one may find every class of paper
which the imagination can conceive. Every grade
of society is catered for. If an Esquimau came
to New York, the first thing he would find on
the bookstalls in all probability would be the
Blubber Magazine, or some similar production
written by Esquimaux for Esquimaux. Everybody
reads in New York, and reads all the time. The
New Yorker peruses his favourite paper while he
is being jammed into a crowded compartment on
the subway or leaping like an antelope into a
moving Street car...
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