She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. “Well, no,” she answered. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. A.
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