Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. His face clouded with anger. She felt he would tell people the way, control traffic, and refuse admission to public buildings with invincible correctness and the very finest explicit feelings possible. Here she walked more slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows. “Ah!” said Ramage, impressively. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. Just as Jack got half way down the stairs, and Wild and the Jew reached the upper landing, the street-door was opened by Langley and Ireton, the latter of whom carried a lantern. Gifts came from Florence: rubies and emeralds, a beautiful statue of Santa Maria for their garden grotto, a gorgeous silk tapestry of a hunting scene that alone made the price of her dowry look paltry.
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