W. W. Jacobs

“ Catesby, turning into Bashford's Lane, lost in a moment all this life and colour. The hum of distant voices certainly reached there, but that was all, for Bashford's Lane, a retiring thoroughfare facing a blank dock wall, capped here and there by towering spars, set an example of gentility which neighbouring streets had long ago decided crossly was impossible for ordinary people to follow. ”

“ Truefitt; "it'll come back in time, I dare say."
"I'm sure he's affectionate," said Prudence.
Mr. Catesby eyed his tormentors in silence; the faces of Prudence and her mother betokened much innocent enjoyment, but the austerity of Mrs. Porter's visage was unrelaxed.
"Better let bygones be bygones," said Mrs. Truefitt; "he'll be sorry by-and-by for all the trouble he has caused."
"He'll be ashamed of himself—if you give him time," added Prudence.
Mr. Catesby had heard enough; he took up his hat and crossed to the door. ”

“ The bustle of the day had departed, and the inhabitants of Wapping, in search of coolness and fresh air, were sitting at open doors and windows indulging in general conversation with any-body within earshot. ”

“ Catesby, after various general remarks, made a few inquiries about an uncle aged five minutes, whom he thought was living in Bashford's Lane.
"I don't know 'im," said the landlord.
"I had an idea that he lived at No. 5," said Catesby.
The landlord shook his head. "That's Mrs. Truefitt's house," he said, slowly.
Mr. Catesby pondered. "Truefitt, Truefitt," he repeated; "what sort of a woman is she?"
"Widder-woman," said the landlord; "she lives there with 'er daughter Prudence."
Mr. Catesby said "Indeed!" and being a good listener learned that Mrs. ”