I go back about once a year. I tried. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. But such is the perversity of the human that frequently thereafter he purposely crooked the part in his hair, to give her the excuse to fetch the comb. Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today. Later Lord Charvill told Jarvis that it had been precisely the same at the outset.
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