She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. However, not a moment is to be lost. ” 162 “Mmmm-hmmm. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury.
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