” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. ‘Don’t be so absurd. I suppose I believe in God. Anna left the room on tiptoe. She limited herself to eating once a fortnight, until she discovered that she could go without comfortably for a month. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 03:28:45