For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. "Thanks," he said, holding out a thin white hand. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. Will you marry me?” Anna looked at him in blank amazement. 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.
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