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For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful. ‘There is little I can do at present. John looked at his feet bashfully. " "Oh. ” He whispered with reverence. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply.
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