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Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. . She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. ‘You are mad,’ Gosse uttered, and only just had time to get himself up from the floor. "Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader.
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