Assuming that word of the death reached the Times's newsroom at all, it would have taken little more than one bleary-eyed night editor who had heard neither of Ventris nor of linear B for the obituary to have been consigned to the spike.
It is written from Constantinople that the 'Sophia' of Persia is dead and that his brother had taken the government.
[…] So many people find the world a dreary residence, Mr. Calverley sighed, that it is really a pity some one of these long-faced stolidities cannot die now instead of me. For I have found life wonderful throughout.
Will he do anything toward creating an effective police through the country, every part of which is, every night, in complete exposure to attacks of plunderers and ruffians? Or (to glance abroad) will he do anything for Greece, or anything to real, effectual purpose, for what is cantly named the Peninsula?
