Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. “All your dreadful scientific things?” he said, with a smile that Miss Klegg thought extraordinarily kindly. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner. Presently he caught her puzzled glance, and recollected himself, turning on the charm again.
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