The starling, on which the carpenter stood, was the fourth from the Surrey shore. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. One more passer-by; and always would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. But this made the chase all the more exciting.
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