Anthony Hope

“ Indulging in an unveiled yawn, he strolled along with the ponderous passivity that characterises the policeman unemployed. Yet the next moment his eye—his human eye, not his professional—brightened somewhat at the sight of a graceful figure leaning against the parapet just under a lamp. A married man, he was yet accustomed to beguile his hours of duty by a discreet, though critical, appraisement of the beauty he encountered ”

“ She faced him again. "Well, then, I suppose I must tell you about it—though that seems to me just as funny as throwing the ring into the river. Funnier, in fact! You needn't hold me. I won't throw it in until you give me leave. There, let it lie on the parapet between us. No, the wind may blow it away; you hold it." She gave it to him, and clasped her hands again.
The policeman looked at the ring—a single pearl of no great size, plainly set in gold. ”

“ RIVER AND RING.
By ANTHONY HOPE.
IT was a dark and gusty night; rain now drizzled and now whistled down; the wet pavement gleamed under the lamps, and the policeman's water-proof cape flashed back as it were an answering signal. The few people about scurried hard for home or some makeshift shelter—no need to bid them "move on"! The policeman had his beat, and his thoughts, pretty well to himself. ”