" "I will. What does she look like?’ ‘Black hair. Your fingers are even now as stiff as a schoolgirl’s. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. ” She slipped on her cloak and stepped into the hansom with him. Charming girl.
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