‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. Under the somewhat trying incandescent light her cheeks pleaded guilty to a recent use of the powder puff. “Well, well, Martin. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. There she sought and at last found 107A, one of those heterogeneous piles of offices which occupy the eastern side of the lane.
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