Sometimes, in the slack of three o'clock, they would
sit side by side for a moment, their shoulders touching. When they met
between the tables, running, their foreheads beaded with sweat, they
exchanged a smile.

The customers at the P.R.R. were so many that Victoria could hardly
retain an impression of them. A few were curious though, in the sense
that they were typical. One corner of the room was occupied during the
lunch hour by a small group of chess players; five of the six boards
were regularly captured by them. They sat there in couples, their eyes
glued to the board, allowing the grease to cake slowly on their food;
from time to time one would swallow a mouthful, sometimes dropping
morsels on the table. These he would brush away dreamily, his thoughts
far away, two or three moves ahead. Round each table sat a little group
of spectators who now and then shifted their plates and cups from table
to table and watched the games. At times, when a game ended, a table was
involved in a fierce discussion: gambits, Morphy's classical games, were
thrown about. On the other side of the room the young domino-players
noisily played matador, fives and threes, or plain matching, would look
round and mutter a gibe at the enthusiasts.

Others were more personal. One, a repulsive individual, Greek or
Levantine, patronised one of Betty's tables every day. He was fat,
yellow and loud; over his invariably dirty hands drooped invariably
dirty cuffs; on one finger he wore a large diamond ring.

'It makes me sick sometimes,' said Betty to Victoria, 'you know he eats
with both hands and drops his food; he snuffles too, as he eats, like a
pig.'

Another was an old man with a beautiful thin brown face and white hair.
He sat at a very small table, so small that he was usually alone. Every
day he ordered dry toast, a glass of milk and some stewed fruit. He
never read or smoked, nor did he raise his eyes from the table. An
ancient bookkeeper perhaps, he lived on some principle.

Most of the P. R. R. types were scheduled however. They were mainly
young men or boys between fifteen and twenty. All were clad in blue or
dark suits, wore flannel shirts, dickeys and no cuffs. They would
congregate in noisy groups, talk with furious energy, and smoke Virginia
cigarettes with an air of daredevilry. Now and then one of these would
be sitting alone, reading unexpected papers such as the _Times_,
borrowed from the office. Spasmodically, too, one wou