"What do you want fot that coat, friend?" asked Jack, as he came up. Spurling, who did not dare to exhibit her satisfaction otherwise than by privately pinching the arm of her expected husband. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. The change in her face was not a pleasant one.
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