“What do you think of them?” Anna extended her critical survey and shrugged her shoulders. “Eight, Cavendish Square. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. ” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor.
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