Chapter 1007:

"We have money," the slender woman said, hesitating.
Her eyes touched my brother's, and her hesitation ended.
"Me too." My brother said.
She explained that in addition to the five-pound bills, they had up to thirty pounds of gold, and suggested that they could board the train in St Albans or New Barnet. My brother thought it was hopeless because he saw the anger of Londoners crowding on the train, and proposed his own idea of ​​crossing Essex to Harwich, and fleeing Britain all the way.
The lady that is the name of the woman in white will ignore any reason and keep calling on "George". But her son was very quiet and deliberate, and finally agreed to my brother's suggestion. Therefore, they designed to cross the Great North Road and then head towards Barnett. My brother led the pony to save it as much as possible. As the sun climbs from the sky, it becomes very hot during the day. A thick layer of white sand starts to burn and blinds under the feet, so they can only move very slowly. The fence is gray and dusty. As they moved towards Barnett, the loud complaints grew stronger.
They began to get to know more people. In most cases, these people stared at them, complaining about vague problems, tiredness, and uncleanness. A man in an evening dress walked past them, his eyes on the ground. They heard his voice, looked back at him, and saw one hand holding his hair and the other hand slapping something invisible. The episode of anger was over, and he moved on without looking back.
When my brother's party continued to walk towards the crossroads south of Barnet, they saw a woman walking through some field roads to their left, carrying a child and two children. Then passed by a dirty black man with a thick stick in one hand and a small stick in the other. Then at the corner of the alley, from between the villas guarded at the intersection with the road, a small cart came, which was carried by a sweaty black horse and a bowler hat wearing a gray-brown ash Young gray-yellow driving. There are three girls, a girl from the East District factory, and a few children crowded on the cart.
"Will this bother us Larnd Edgware?" the dumbfounded white-faced driver asked. When my brother told him that if he turned to the left, he would whipped up immediately, without the formalities of gratitude.
My brother noticed that in the house in front of them, light gray smoke or smoke enveloped the house and covered the white facade of the terrace above the road between the rear of the house. Mrs. Elphinstone suddenly called out the tongue of the smoky red flame, jumping above the house in front of them under the hot blue sky. The noisy sound now solves the chaotic mixing of many sounds, the grilles of many wheels, the creaking of driving and the intermittent hooves. The lane turned steeply, less than fifty yards from the intersection.
"My god!" Mrs. Elphinstone cried. "What are you driving us into?"
My brother stopped.
Because the main road is a boiling flow of people, a large group of people rushes north, one pressing against another. A huge pile of dust, shining under the scorching sun, darkened and blurred everything within 20 feet of the ground, and was permanently updated by a crowd of horses and the hurried feet of male and female hikers, through various descriptions Wheels.
"Road!" My brother was crying when he heard the voice. "Give Way!"
It's like riding in a fire, approaching the intersection of the lane and the road. The crowd roared like fire, and the dust was hot and pungent. And, indeed, at a little bit on the road, a villa was burning and emitting black smoke on the road, adding to the chaos.
Two people walked over. Then there was a dirty woman, carrying a heavy bondage, crying. A lost hound dog, hanging with his tongue, circled them suspiciously, feeling terrified and trivial, evading my brother's threat.
As they could see, the road driving in the direction of London between the houses on the right was a mess of dirty, hurried people rushing between the villas on either side. When they rushed to the corner and hurried past, the blackheads, the crowded form became clear, hurried past, and once again merged their personalities in the fading crowd, these crowds were finally swallowed by a cloud of dust.
"Go on! Go on!" cried. "Road! Road!"
One person's hand rests on another person's back. My brother is standing on the pony's head. Irresistibly attracted to him, he moved slowly and slowly.
Edgware used to be a chaotic scene, Chalk Farm was a noisy commotion, but this was the crowd of the entire movement. It's hard to imagine that owner. It has no characteristics of its own. The characters pouring out from the corner, with their backs to the crowd in the driveway. Those who came along the edge, threatened by the wheels, stumbled in the ditch, leading each other astray.
The trolleys are crowded with each other, and there is hardly any way for the quick, impatient vehicles that come from time to time, and when there is an opportunity to do so, people are scattered on the fences and gates of the villa.
"Push!" cried. "Push! They are here!"
A blind man stood in the ambulance, dressed in the uniform of the Salvation Army, pointing his finger with a crooked finger, and signaled: "Eternal! Eternal!" His voice was hoarse and loud, so my brother was lost in the dust for a long time. You can hear his voice in the future. Some people crowded in the carriage foolishly whipped their horses and quarreled with other drivers. Some people sat motionless, staring at everything with miserable eyes. Some people are eager to bite their hands, or shrink at the bottom of transportation vehicles. The fragments of the horse were covered in foam and the eyes were bloodshot.
There are countless taxis, carriages, shopping carts, light trucks. Mail cart, a road cleaner cart marked "Westerly, St. Pancras." This is a huge timber truck full of forage. The winemaker's dining car was splashed with blood on two nearby wheels.
"Clear the road!" cried. "Clear the road!"
"Eternal! Eternal!" echoed on the road.
There were sorrowful women everywhere, neatly dressed, neatly dressed, there were crying and stumbling children, dirty clothes suffocating in the dust, and tears on tired faces. Many of these people are sometimes helpful, sometimes lower and savage. Fighting side by side with them, the weary street vagabonds were covered with faded black rags, eyes widened, speaking out loud, bad breath. A few strong workers walked forward, and the poor, unkempt men, dressed like shop assistants or shop assistants, were struggling. My brother noticed a wounded soldier, a man in the clothes of a railroad porter, and a poor man in pajamas in a coat.
However, due to the difference in composition, all hosts have certain things in common. Their faces are full of fear and pain, and there is fear behind them. The road was full of hustle and bustle, and the quarrel on a truck made the whole convoy speed up. Even a person who was so scared and broken, his knees bent under him, were galvanized for a moment, and resumed activities. A lot of heat and dust are already at work. Their skin is dry and their lips are dark and cracked. They are all thirsty, tired and sore feet. In all kinds of crying, people heard quarrels, blame, tiredness and fatigue; most of them had a hoarse and weak voice. All this is avoided:
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