“I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. Spurlock mused over the previous night. 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. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. What she actually wanted was the present state of affairs to continue indefinitely. “Love should be enough, John, but it never is. He had not considered this aspect of the business. ’ Roding started. Here was one that subtly mocked her. “You’ve got my view,” he said, after a pensive second.
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