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. Under the plumed hat, her eye kindled. “Bless you, sweetheart. ‘I know,’ said Prudence Sindlesham, sympathy in her tone. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely. ‘I am not in the least in a rage. And then came the vile experience of being forced and borne along the street to the police-station. "Well?" he whispered.
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