I know London better than you, and I have had to earn my own living. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. ‘Ah, trying to be the young hero, I take it, which is why he near got hisself killed. It was a brief solitude, however.
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