“Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. It might prove rewarding. I'll not speak of Jack or Jonathan. After feasting his eye upon this superb panorama, he was about to return, when he ascertained from a farmer that his nearest road to Willesden would be down a lane a little further on, to the right. “We’ve all been mixing our ideas, and we’ve got intellectual hot coppers— every blessed one of us. Hope you ate light before you got here. Which were perfectly true, as Gerald was aware. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour.
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