He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. After passing Tottenham Court Road, very few houses were to be seen on the right hand, opposite Wardour Street it was open country. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. Marvel, who had been a little discomposed by the treatment he had experienced on Holborn Hill, very composedly filled and lighted his pipe. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way.
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