. ’ Roding allowed that he had a point, and followed him as he began to mount the stairs. They trudged along a little hungry, because of the fruitarian refreshments, and mentally very active. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed.
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