If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. ” “Capital!” Mr. ” He coughed gently. Book. It is you who took my name, not I yours. Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. " "I do remember it, Sir," replied Mrs. Money was not necessary; indeed, it would have embarrassed all concerned. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac.
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