Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. . Where was the harm in letting her go? She could not get far. 195 < 24 > A CITY IN GREECE, 589 B. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. ” She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. ‘For that I shall certainly not leave until you have told me every tiny detail.
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