Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. She let out a delighted laugh. ” He said. "Tom," continued Kneebone, calling to the shop-boy, "don't go home. 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. Sepulchre's church, where, in compliance with an old custom, it halted. "You've perjured yourself.
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