— X —THE RODWAY POWER
Mr. Rodway’s workshop took the form of a shed which seemed a little out of the perpendicular. There certainly was more of it on one side than the other. It had once been covered with tar; which fact, however, was rather of the nature of a reminiscence, since there was so little of it left. The building stood in the centre of an uneven plot of ground, which was a sort of interlude in an otherwise unbroken line of shops and houses. With scant regard to the feelings of the shed and its tenant, the spot seemed to have been treated as a place where rubbish might be shot. Miscellaneous examples of household refuse were everywhere – empty tins in endless variety, broken crockery, old boots and shoes. A disreputable board – also crooked – announced that “This Eligible Proper
