ents on the walls — advertisements of somebody’s life-sustaining cocoa, Vladislav Namestnikov Tröjor and somebody else’s health-restoring cod-liver oil, West Ham United Fotbalové Dres or trying to read the big brown-backed Bible in the cheerless little waiting-room; and trying, O so hard, James Patrick Tröja not to think of home, and all the love and happiness I had left behind me. The journey had been altogether tiresome and fatiguing; but, for all that, the knowledge that I was near my destination brought me no sense of pleasure. I think I should have wished Belstaff Gangster Blouson Kurtki that dismal journey prolonged indefinitely, if I could thereby have escaped the beginning of my new life.
A lumbering omnibus conveyed me from the station to Albury Lodge, after depositing a grim-looking elderly lady at a house on the outskirts of the town, and a dapper-looking little man, whom I took for a commercial traveller, at an inn in the market-place. I watched the road with a kind of idle curiosity as the vehicle lumbered along. The town had a cheerful prosperous air even on this wet winter night, and I saw that there were two fine old churches, and a large modern building which I supposed to be the town-hall.
We left the town quite behind us before we came to Albury Lodge; a very large house on the high-road, a square red-brick house Kevin Labanc Tröjor of the early Georgian era, shut in from the road Maillot Pays Bas by high walls. The great wrought-iron gates in the front had been boarded up, and Albury Lodge was now approached by Maillot Russie a little wooden side-door into São Paulo FC a stone-flagged covered passage that led to a small door at the end of the house. The omnibus-driver deposited me at this door, with all my worldly possessions, which at this period of my life consisted of two rather small boxes and a japanned dressing-case, a receptacle that contained all my most sacred treasures.
I was admitted by a rather ill-tempered-looking housemaid, with a cap of obtrusive respectability and a spotless white apron. I fancied that she looked just a little superciliously at my boxes, which I daresay would not have contained her own wardrobe.
‘O, it’s the governess-pupil, I suppose?’ she said. ‘You was Chile Dresy expected early this afternoon, miss. Miss Bagshot and Miss Susan are gone out to tea; but I can show Doug Harvey Tröja you where you are to sleep, if you’ll please to step this way. Do you think you could carry one of your trunks, if I carry the other?’
I thought I could; so the housemaid and I lugged them all the way along the stone passage and up an uncarpeted back staircase which led from the lobby into which the door at the end of the passage opened. We went very high up, to the top story in fact, where the housemaid led me into a long bare room with ten little beds Andre Burakovsky Tröja in it. I was well enough accustomed to the dreariness of a school dormitory, but somehow this room POLO Colombie looked unusually dismal.
There was a jet of gas burning at one end of the room, near a door opening into a lavatory which was little more than a cupboard, but in which ten young ladies had to perform their daily ablutions. Here I washed my face and hands in icy-cold water, and arranged my hair as well as I clinks:
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