" Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the stream, and the bark shot from the strand. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. There was a pleasant numbness in the bottle; that's why I went to it. CHAPTER XXI.
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