Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. But there was a face pressed to the glass. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. He occupied one of the smaller houses near the station. She decided to go out into the London afternoon again and get something to eat in an Aerated Bread shop or some such place, and perhaps find a cheap room for herself. He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. According to what I’ve heard, you oughtn’t to be here. That’s— that’s my private life. Wood was scarcely seated before Mr.
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