Whatever time of day and however many people crowded on board, London omnibuses always smelled of damp wool mingled with stale beer and sweat. Watters sat back in the uncomfortable seat, tipped his tall hat forward to conceal his eyes, tapped his cane on the floor, and surveyed the other passengers.
A fussy looking businessman hid behind his newspaper as if scared of meeting the eyes of the woman sitting opposite. She was an erect schoolmistress with a mouth like a closed gin-trap. There was a young clerk with a gilt-topped cane and a hole in his shoes; a shifty-looking woman whose face was a stranger to soap and water and whose hair sadly wanted brushing, and a strikingly handsome woman who looked out of place on the bus. Watters swivelled his eyes to watch the latter. He did not like en
