‘It will suit me very well that you go away, because you are a person without sense and I do not wish to talk to you. " "What a life!" "No worse than yours. 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. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard.
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