It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. You feel that that smile is for you, the words are for you, the whole song is for you. Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect. “I don’t think I CAN do that,” she said. But I was portentous, I can assure you. The man pulled up.
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