But the first one was brought home, and it was the beginning of the end. ’ The lady looked unexpectedly smug. ” “I think, Mr. “Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. “Thank you—for coming,” he said. It is no good arguing about a thing like that.
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