I'll be outside the hotel at nine-thirty. But his daughter might well have a claim. “I’ll go. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. “John, don’t!” she cried. ‘Now then, missie. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. These were seated in an imperfect semicircle about a very copper-adorned fireplace, surmounted by a carved wood inscription: “DO IT NOW. ” The dinner came to an end at last, and the whiskered waiter presented his bill and evacuated the apartment and closed the door behind him with an almost ostentatious discretion. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack.
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