"To go a little further. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man. Good riddance. ” She tried to plan her proceedings in detail. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. It's a long time since we met, eight years and more. 8.
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