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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 330 pages of information about Aaron's Rod.

Tanny went away to Norway to visit her people, for the first time for three years.  Lilly did not go:  he did not want to.  He came to London and settled in a room over Covent Garden market.  The room was high up, a fair size, and stood at the corner of one of the streets and the market itself, looking down on the stalls and the carts and the arcade.  Lilly would climb out of the window and sit for hours watching the behaviour of the great draught-horses which brought the mountains of boxes and vegetables.  Funny half-human creatures they seemed, so massive and fleshy, yet so Cockney.  There was one which could not bear donkeys, and which used to stretch out its great teeth like some massive serpent after every poor diminutive ass that came with a coster’s barrow.  Another great horse could not endure standing.  It would shake itself and give little starts, and back into the heaps of carrots and broccoli, whilst the driver went into a frenzy of rage.

There was always something to watch.  One minute it was two great loads of empty crates, which in passing had got entangled, and reeled, leaning to fall disastrously.  Then the drivers cursed and swore and dismounted and stared at their jeopardised loads:  till a thin fellow was persuaded to scramble up the airy mountains of cages, like a monkey.  And he actually managed to put them to rights.  Great sigh of relief when the vans rocked out of the market.

Again there was a particular page-boy in buttons, with a round and perky behind, who nimbly carried a tea-tray from somewhere to somewhere, under the arches beside the market.  The great brawny porters would tease him, and he would stop to give them cheek.  One afternoon a giant lunged after him:  the boy darted gracefully among the heaps of vegetables, still bearing aloft his tea-tray, like some young blue-buttoned acolyte fleeing before a false god.  The giant rolled after him—­when alas, the acolyte of the tea-tray slipped among the vegetables, and down came the tray.  Then tears, and a roar of unfeeling mirth from the giants.  Lilly felt they were going to make it up to him.

Another afternoon a young swell sauntered persistently among the vegetables, and Lilly, seated in his high little balcony, wondered why.  But at last, a taxi, and a very expensive female, in a sort of silver brocade gown and a great fur shawl and ospreys in her bonnet.  Evidently an assignation.  Yet what could be more conspicuous than this elegant pair, picking their way through the cabbage-leaves?

And then, one cold grey afternoon in early April, a man in a black overcoat and a bowler hat, walking uncertainly.  Lilly had risen and was just retiring out of the chill, damp air.  For some reason he lingered to watch the figure.  The man was walking east.  He stepped rather insecurely off the pavement, and wavered across the setts between the wheels of the standing vans.  And suddenly he went down.  Lilly could not see him on the ground, but he saw some van-men go forward, and he saw one of them pick up the man’s hat.

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