She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. He took her to Burger King, still amused by her taste in food. “A claim,” he continued, “which I am quite prepared to recognize.
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