He had hurt her. “Most of it is ugly and frowsy,” she declared, “but it isn’t worth talking about. But that was soon put right, and she walked out into London with a peculiar exaltation of mind, an exaltation that partook of panic and defiance, but was chiefly a sense of vast unexampled release. “I think—we all think that she is wonderful. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. " Starting at a rapid pace in the direction of the Old Bailey, and crossing Fleet Bridge, "for oyster tubs renowned," the trio skirted the right bank of the muddy stream until they reached Fleet Lane, up which they hurried.
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