Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. The ledge, along which he crawled, was about a foot wide. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. When she judged that she must be nearly back at the library, she began to feel somewhat dispirited. "'And thine eye shall not pity,'" said her father, in a tone of rebuke, "'but, life shall be for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot. To my loving husband Rodney, who is truly a dream come true. I want to make you feel that here is a place where the crowd does not clamor nor ill-winds blow.
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