|
|
|
Remember, the stated price is all you have to pay - free worldwide p&p / s&h - full details/upgrades here
|
|
The Great Stink - SIGNED - Clare Clark
2005 British hardback first edition, first impression, Penguin, London A fine unread book in fine unclipped dustwrapper Signed on the title page by the author No previous owner names, inscriptions or stamps etc Tightly bound and square, clean contents and cloth The jacket has no loss or tears, clean and bright An historical murder mystery set in 1855. Featuers a soldier who returns to London after serving in the Crimean war. A broken man he tries to put his life back together and a new job helps until.. An excellent copy and a scarce book, especially so signed For Sale at SOLD (approx $SOLD) * - free delivery worldwide ! |
Buy Secure -
Enquire
|
|
|
Buy Secure -
Enquire
or Add to Cart |
|
Where the channel snaked to the right it was no longer possible to stand upright, despite the abrupt drop in the gradient. The crown of William's hat grazed the slimed roof as he stooped, holding his lantern before him, and the stink of excrement pressed into his nostrils. His hand was unsteady and the light shuddered and jumped in the darkness. Rising and rushing through the narrower gully, the stream pressed the greased leather of his high boots hard against the flesh of his calves, the surge of the water muffling the clatter of hooves and iron-edged wheels above him. Of course he was deeper now. Between him and the granite-block road was at least twenty feet of heavy London clay. The weight of it deepened the darkness. Beneath his feet the rotten bricks were treacherous, soft as crumbled cheese, and with each step the thick layer of black sludge sucked at the soles of his boots. Although his skin bristled with urgency, William forced himself to walk slowly and deliberately the way the flushers had shown him, pressing his heel down hard into the uncertain ground before unrolling his weight forward on to the ball of his foot, scanning the surface of the water for rising bubbles. The sludge hid pockets of gas, slop gas the flushers called it, the faintest whiff of which they claimed could cause a man to drop unconscious, sudden as if he'd been shot. From the little he knew of the toxic effects of sulphuretted hydrogen, William had every reason to believe them. |
site search how to order free delivery contact us
