She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. For aught I know, they may be in the neighbourhood at this moment. " "What did I say?" "Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. Ah! I shall never forget the figure Jack cut on that occasion.
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