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“I saw—they knocked off your fetters yesterday. Pray, walk in. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. I do not understand why you and your sister should not see more of one another. He did not speak for a moment. Anna looked at her curiously, and with sinking heart. Stanley, whose family had been by any reckoning inconsiderable—to use the kindliest term. 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. ‘You and Jarvis Remenham both, yes.
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