I picked up her handkerchief on the floor. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. One who steals. I was afraid of being talked about. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. Take it, I tell you. "The ban-dogs!" thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of "The long drover of the Borough market. I'm always shy the price of the ticket home. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master.
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