And I've been to the National Gallery, and to a dozen old booksellers', coming across treasures, and I've lunched, on some strange nastiness, at a cookshop in Holborn.

I wanted to go to the Tower, but it was too far--my old man urged that; and I would have gone to the Zoo if it hadn't been too wet--which he also begged me to observe.

But you wouldn't believe--I did put in St.Paul's.

Such days," she wound up, "are expensive; for, besides the cab, I've bought quantities of books." She immediately passed, at any rate, to another point: "I can't help wondering when you must last have laid eyes on them." And then as it had apparently for her companion an effect of abruptness: "Maggie, I mean, and the child.

For I suppose you know he's with her." "Oh yes, I know he's with her.