She was slender, and sometimes she seemed tall, and walked and carried herself lightly and joyfully as one who commonly and habitually feels well, and sometimes she stooped a little and was preoccupied. The boat rocked violently with the struggle. What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. ‘But I will tell you this, mon vieux. I'm a slave to my word. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. Yet I shall think of you to-day.
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