Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. That added to his puzzle. ‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. "What would you like most in this world?" he asked. 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. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. “Girls. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion.
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