It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. “Anna! What tragedy has happened, little sister? No lights, no supper, no coffee —and, above all, no Mr. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me.
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