She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. She covered herself with her arms. A faint, delightfully humorous smile parted her lips. She was chaffing him about being taken for Meysey Hill, and suggested that he should be presented to me as the millionaire. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. ” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious.
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