She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. " So saying, he closed the lantern. Good-bye, Anna!” Annabel sprang up. ‘Jacques?’ ‘No. “Do you know him?” Lucy replied, “No, I haven’t met him. ‘Jacques?’ she called. . The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as Smithfield. “I have answered all your questions,” she said.
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