Earles closed the piano with a little bang. Most of the tables were for those who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with tablecloths and laid for dinner. Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth.
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