She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. “For instance?” She smiled. “No, Lucy, it isn’t fine and I am sorry. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. ” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage. Why, is the question I would like answered. And now, come and sit by me, my dear, and let's have a little quiet chat together.
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