CHAPTER XVI. ‘Didn’t mean it, love. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. Sated, he rolled off her body and retired to his quarters. Maggot.
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