It had felt wonderful to pick up the fiddle again. “There’s no one here except me. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. About many of these houses hung a mysterious taint as of something weakly and commonly and dustily evil; the women who negotiated the rooms looked out through a friendly manner as though it was a mask, with hard, defiant eyes. ToC London, at the period of this history, boasted only a single bridge.
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