" "What a life!" "No worse than yours. ” Cathy insisted. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. "If I hadn't just left him, I could have sworn it was Mrs. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same.
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