CHAPTER XXIII. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. ” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage. “Many nights I have thought of you, Anna. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. \" He looked crestfallen. ” “Sounds interesting,” Ennison remarked. " Exclamations of wonder burst from all.
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