I'll go alone. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. The life of a girl presented itself to her as something happy and heedless and unthinking, yet really guided and controlled by others, and going on amidst unsuspected screens and concealments. She loped forward on unnaturally long legs and arms that swung loosely.
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