Scene:—Adelphia Terrace, yesterday afternoon. Mr. Bernard Shaw approaches No. 10, outside which [sic] our representative is, and has been patiently waiting. Mr. Shaw is without overcoat, gloves, stick or umbrella; he is wearing a brown tweed suit, a brown trilby hat, and a brown tie; he comes swiftly down the street, his arms swinging loosely, his whole bearing suggesting that if “God's in his heaven, ‘G. B. S.’ is in Adelphia Terrace, and all is right with the world.”
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