Manning as they talked. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. ’ Melusine cursed Emile roundly, but raised a defiant head. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way.
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