’ She giggled suddenly. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. “Run in now. shouldn’t be friends. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. " "Poh, poh, my dear! Mr. " "Irons—heavy irons—night and day. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees.
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