“My sister is sure to be out. “This place is very beautiful. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. How does one get work? She walked along the Strand and across Trafalgar Square, and by the Haymarket to Piccadilly, and so through dignified squares and palatial alleys to Oxford Street; and her mind was divided between a speculative treatment of employment on the one hand, and breezes—zephyr breezes—of the keenest appreciation for London, on the other. A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly. gutenberg.
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