Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. ‘He wanted me also to run away with him, and I wish very much that I had done so. Come along, you mad jade. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. ‘Because you are a bête, and a pig, and imbecile.
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