She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered. Dolls. He began munching his water-chestnuts—a small brown radish-shaped vegetable, with the flavour of coconut—that grow along the river brims. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. I sha’n’t care a rap if we can never marry. However, confession of a fault makes half amends for it. She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. She was no longer there. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment.
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