"Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. . A brisk talk sprang up between Capes and Mr. Um. “By Jove!” he said, “there is something direct about you. There, in a little tea and sweetstuff shop, she bought and consumed slowly and absent-mindedly the insufficient nourishment that is natural to her sex on such occasions. Part of her felt like laughing insanely at how badly she had been duped.
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