I arrived here with something less than five pounds in my pocket. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. Nasty, damp passages. Something, I'm convinced, has happened to the boys. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply.
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