—'How so?' says I. Figg?" asked Gay. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. She rose to the fire to stoke it. m. ‘My wife would say she is English a little. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. ’ ‘Undoubtedly,’ Gerald agreed.
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