Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. There were electric and ice plants, and a great store in which one could buy anything from jewsharps to gas-engines. " With this, he mounted his steed and rode off. “There was a keg, hash, LSD, pot, you know, the usual.
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