The policeman wore crepe-soled shoes.
Already a dozen ships waited within: three-masted barquentine, two-masted brigs, and a handful of smaller sloops and schooners. With a rattle and bang, the anchor splashed into the Halifax Harbour waters.
Perhaps the most awkward situation for the inexperienced young landlady was how to deal with “unweds.”
Once, this neo-Gothic landmark in Chelsea was the Church of the Holy Communion. . . . A decade later, it was Limelight, the nightclub-slash-den of depravity. . . . Today that fabled nightclub is a mall. . . . Entering by a side door, one young woman patently ignorant of the place’s tainted past, glanced around bewilderedly. “I thought that this was a house of God,” she murmured.
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