Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street. She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house. And Miss Miniver fell discussing whether Goopes or Bernard Shaw or Tolstoy or Doctor Tumpany or Wilkins the author had the more powerful and perfect mind in existence at the present time. He returned her impressive greeting almost mechanically. After debating with himself for some time whether he should employ an assistant, or make the attempt alone, his love of gain overcame his fears, and he decided upon the latter plan.
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