For aught I know, they may be in the neighbourhood at this moment. . “I don’t think she will,” she said. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. “They might do you good,” she remarked. ” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage. “Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. "They imagine their work is done.
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