R. Austin Freeman, The Anthropologist at Large (1910)
“ We walked slowly past the tall, blank-faced building, and were just turning to repass it when a steam whistle sounded, a wicket opened in the main gate, and a stream of workmen—each powdered with white, like a miller—emerged into the street. We halted to watch the men as they came out, one by one, through the wicket, turning to the right or the left toward their homes or some near-by coffee-shop ”
