All Roads Lead to Calvary

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Jerome Klapka Jerome. All Roads Lead to Calvary

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

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“You young imp of Satan!” demanded Mrs. Munday – her feelings of outraged virtue exaggerating perhaps her real sentiments. “What are you doing?”

“Go away. I’se looking at myself,” had explained Joan, struggling furiously to regain the glass.

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Madge looked at her in silence for quite a while. “How confident you are,” she said. “How I envy you.”

They talked for a time about domestic matters. Joan had established herself in furnished rooms in a quiet street of pleasant Georgian houses just behind the Abbey; a member of Parliament and his wife occupied the lower floors, the landlord, a retired butler, and his wife, an excellent cook, confining themselves to the basement and the attics. The remaining floor was tenanted by a shy young man – a poet, so the landlady thought, but was not sure. Anyhow he had long hair, lived with a pipe in his mouth, and burned his lamp long into the night. Joan had omitted to ask his name. She made a note to do so.

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