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"But, let that pass. ” “It’s so strange to think of you—troubled by such things. “Thank Heaven, they are bringing the hors d’oeuvres. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. ‘Left to yourself, my girl, you may not have any affairs. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried.
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