‘You ain’t got nothing on me. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. “Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. I’ve never seen her quite so sure of herself. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way.
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