Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. Wells This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look.
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