‘Walked early to look at my old house in Piccadilly – saw into the room where I have sat with him, and felt as if I had lived there with a friend who was long since dead to me.
No sense of past agony – all mournfully soft.’
‘Walked early to look at my old house in Piccadilly – saw into the room where I have sat with him, and felt as if I had lived there with a friend who was long since dead to me.
No sense of past agony – all mournfully soft.’
The Ghost of Piccadilly 