As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. “So Mr. “Why did you lie to that man?” he asked fiercely. "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred, rising. And then her pace slackened. It’s that father of yours you take after, no question. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. He called a waiter. "Fear!" echoed Wild, in a terrible tone,—"fear! Repeat that word again, and nothing shall save you. 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.
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