The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tale Of Mr. Peter Brown - Chelsea
Justice, by V. Sackville West

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Title: The Tale Of Mr. Peter Brown - Chelsea Justice
From "The New Decameron", Volume III.

Author: V. Sackville West

Release Date: August 31, 2007 [EBook #22476]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF MR. PETER BROWN ***

Produced by David Widger

THE TALE OF MR. PETER BROWN--CHELSEA JUSTICE

From "The New Decameron"--Volume III.

By V. Sackville West

THE first thing which attracted my attention to the man was the shock
of white hair above the lean young face. But for this, I should not
have looked twice at him: long, spare, and stooping, a shabby figure,
he crouched over a cup of coffee in a corner of the dingy restaurant,
at fretful enmity with the world; typical, I should have said, of the
furtive London nondescript. But that white hair startled me; it gleamed
out, unnaturally cleanly in those not overclean surroundings, and
although I had propped my book up against the water-bottle at my own
table, where I sat over my solitary dinner, I found my eyes straying
from the printed page to the human face which gave the promise of
greater interest. Before very long he became conscious of my glances,
and returned them when he thought I was not observing him. Inevitably,
however, the moment came when our eyes met, We both looked away as
though taken in fault, but when, having finished his coffee and laid out
the coppers in payment on his table, he rose to make his way out between
the tables, he let his gaze dwell on me as he passed; let it dwell on me
quite perceptibly, quite definitely, with an air of curious speculation,
a hesitation, almost an appeal, and I thought he was about to speak, but
instead of that he crushed his hat, an old black wideawake, down
over his strange white hair, and hurrying resolutely on towards the
swing-doors of the restaurant, he passed out and was lost in the London
night.

I was uncomfortably haunted, after that evening, by a sense of guilt. I
was quite certain, with unjustifiable certainty born of instinct, that
the man had wanted to speak to