Life waits for us. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Here was one that subtly mocked her. Where were you married?” “At the English Embassy in Paris. She had better escape if she can. The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care. "Fifty now and fifty when I return. How does one get work? She walked along the Strand and across Trafalgar Square, and by the Haymarket to Piccadilly, and so through dignified squares and palatial alleys to Oxford Street; and her mind was divided between a speculative treatment of employment on the one hand, and breezes—zephyr breezes—of the keenest appreciation for London, on the other. She felt she was bound in honor to tell the whole affair to Manning sooner or later.
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