‘I suppose I need not ask to which other soldier you refer. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. ‘It is not possible. But what can we do? Here am I, fixed to respectability and this laboratory; you’re living at home. But I'm not worrying about that. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. She passed people in the streets and regarded them with a quickening apprehension, once or twice came girls dressed in slatternly finery, going toward Regent Street from out these places. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities.
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