She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. "You must be a cleverer lad than even I take you for, if you get out of this place. From then on he was Ruth's dog. Lucy studied Katy for the rest of the game. She let them fall and sped to the companion, where she stood for a moment, the moonlight giving her a celestial touch.
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