“Hand me the Jergens lotion, will you? How’d it go with John?” She asked. There was a gulf of eight years between her and the youngest of her brace of sisters—an impassable gulf inhabited chaotically by two noisy brothers. But the orchestra had never had a finer hour, and everyone was aware of it. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment.
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