How does one get work? She walked along the Strand and across Trafalgar Square, and by the Haymarket to Piccadilly, and so through dignified squares and palatial alleys to Oxford Street; and her mind was divided between a speculative treatment of employment on the one hand, and breezes—zephyr breezes—of the keenest appreciation for London, on the other. I don’t care! I’m glad I did. ’ Roding blinked. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances.
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