and, being joined by frequent bridges, gave the newer parts of London a
curiously Venetian appearance. In some streets there were upper and even
third-story Rows. For most of the day and all night the shop windows
were lit by electric light, and many establishments had made, as it
were, canals of public footpaths through their premises in order to
increase their window space.

Barnet made his way along this night-scene rather apprehensively since
the police had power to challenge and demand the Labour Card of any
indigent-looking person, and if the record failed to show he was in
employment, dismiss him to the traffic pavement below.

But there was still enough of his former gentility about Barnet's
appearance and bearing to protect him from this; the police, too, had
other things to think of that night, and he was permitted to reach the
galleries about Leicester Square--that great focus of London life and
pleasure.

He gives a vivid description of the scene that evening. In the centre
was a garden raised on arches lit by festoons of lights and connected
with the Rows by eight graceful bridges, beneath which hummed the
interlacing streams of motor traffic, pulsating as the current
alternated between east and west and north and south. Above rose great
frontages of intricate rather than beautiful reinforced porcelain,
studded with lights, barred by bold illuminated advertisements, and
glowing with reflections. There were the two historical music halls of
this place, the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre, in which the municipal
players revolved perpetually through the cycle of Shakespeare's plays,
and four other great houses of refreshment and entertainment whose
pinnacles streamed up into the blue obscurity of the night. The south