To his relief, Mrs Sindlesham stepped into the breach, grasping her cane and rising painfully from her chair. ” “How are the Becks doing? Are they okay?” He smiled. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed.
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