" The hooting was instantaneously changed to cheers. “Have to take your turn,” he remarked laconically. . She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said.
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