The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. Talk to her of the new story; divert her; for this day her heart has been twisted sorely. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. Already Cosette was her chosen friend. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. "Of robbery!" replied Jonathan in a thundering voice, and suddenly confronting him. "I've spoken. I’ve no name for it yet. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue.
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