" "If you must go to prison, I will go with you," cried Mrs. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. “Sir John is not at all that sort. He's as nice and civil-spoken a gentleman as need be; by the same token," she added, in an under tone, "that he gave me a span new crown piece. She looked around the apartment for other people. He certainly bore inspection. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. “You will not object,” he said, glancing towards her, “to accepting a deposit. 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.
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