Rodens Corner

Henry Seton Merriman
Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton
Merriman

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Merriman #10 in our series by Henry Seton Merriman
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Title: Roden's Corner
Author: Henry Seton Merriman

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RODEN'S CORNER
BY
HENRY SETON MERRIMAN
1913
"'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men
for Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, And
one by one back in the Closet lays"

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.

IN ST. JACOB STRAAT
II. WORK OK PLAY?
III. BEGINNING AT HOME
IV. A NEW DISCIPLE
V. OUT OF EGYPT
VI. ON THE DUNES
VII. OFFICIAL
VIII. THE SEAMY SIDE
IX. A SHADOW FROM THE PAST
X. DEEPER WATER
XI. IN THE OUDE WEG
XII. SUBURBAN
XIII. THE MAKING OF A MAN
XIV. UNSOUND
XV. PLAIN SPEAKING
XVI. DANGER
XVII. PLAIN SPEAKING
XVIII. A COMPLICATION
XIX. DANGER
XX. FROM THE PAST

XXI. A COMBINED FORCE
XXII. GRATITUDE
XXIII. A REINFORCEMENT
XXIV. A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT
XXV. CLEARING THE AIR
XXVI. THE ULTIMATUM
XXVII. COMMERCE
XXVIII. WITH CARE
XXIX. A LESSON
XXX. ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL
XXXI. AT THE CORNER
XXXII. ROUND THE CORNER
CHAPTER I.
IN ST. JACOB STRAAT.
"The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life."
"It is the Professor von Holzen," said a stout woman who still keeps the
egg and butter shop at the corner of St. Jacob Straat in The Hague; she
is a Jewess, as, indeed, are most of the denizens of St. Jacob Straat and
its neighbour, Bezem Straat, where the fruit-sellers live--"it is the
Professor von Holzen, who passes this way once or twice a week. He is
a good man."
"His coat is of a good cloth," answered her customer, a young man with
a melancholy dark eye and a racial appreciation of the material things

of this world.
Some say that it is not wise to pass through St. Jacob Straat or Bezem
Straat alone and after nightfall, for there are lurking forms within the
doorways, and shuffling feet may be heard in the many passages.
During the daytime the passer-by will, if he looks up quickly enough,
see furtive faces at the windows, of men, and more especially of
women, who never seem to come abroad, but pass their lives behind
those unwashed curtains, with carefully closed windows, and in an
atmosphere which may be faintly imagined by a glance at the wares in
the shop below. The pavement of St. Jacob Straat is also pressed into
the service of that commerce in old metal and damaged domestic
utensils which seems to enable thousands of the accursed people to live
and thrive according to their lights. It will be observed that the vendors,
with a knowledge of human nature doubtless bred of experience, only
expose upon the pavement articles such as bedsteads, stoves, and other
heavy ware which may not be snatched up by the fleet of foot. Within
the shops are crowded clothes and books and a thousand miscellaneous
effects of small value. A hush seems to hang over this street. Even the
children, white-faced and melancholy, with deep expressionless eyes
and drooping noses, seem to have realized too soon the gravity of life,
and rarely indulge in games.
He whom the butter-merchant described as Professor von Holzen
passed quickly along the middle of the street, with an air suggesting a
desire to attract as little attention as possible. He was a
heavy-shouldered man with a bad mouth--a greedy mouth, one would
think--and mild eyes. The month was September, and the professor
wore a thin black overcoat closely buttoned across his broad chest. He
carried a pair
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