I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. 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. Wild himself if I met him," retorted Jack. He liked to draw her in, and she did her best to talk. I’ve bored you or something.
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