"Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored Jack; "and take me where you please. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. ’ Upon which, she darted through the library door, galvanising both the sergeant and his two militiamen into action. How does one get work? She walked along the Strand and across Trafalgar Square, and by the Haymarket to Piccadilly, and so through dignified squares and palatial alleys to Oxford Street; and her mind was divided between a speculative treatment of employment on the one hand, and breezes—zephyr breezes—of the keenest appreciation for London, on the other. ’ Melusine stifled a giggle. And yet—I love you.
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