3. "You read it, Ruth. It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. "Thames!—Thames!" cried Winifred, rushing to the window. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. ” Lucy found dinner was very pleasant as John’s parents were easy to chat with. How does one get work? She walked along the Strand and across Trafalgar Square, and by the Haymarket to Piccadilly, and so through dignified squares and palatial alleys to Oxford Street; and her mind was divided between a speculative treatment of employment on the one hand, and breezes—zephyr breezes—of the keenest appreciation for London, on the other. Besides, she had admitted her identity. F.
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