” Ennison thought so too half an hour later, when having cut out from one of the bridge tables he settled down for a chat with Annabel. She backed away from him. “Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital. The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. \"How's it going, Lucy?\" She turned. I will not talk to you about Miss Pellissier or her affairs.
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