Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. I'm always shy the price of the ticket home. Lucy was sent reeling into a stone wall, which she hit with a great thud.
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