His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. A pig, yes, a little. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. ‘Well, young man,’ he said, ‘we haven’t seen you lately,’ and something about ‘Bateson & Co. Make haste!" Ruth hurried off to her own room. Come in! Come in, do. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. “They might do you good,” she remarked. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. Also from the capital came news of grave fears for the safety of the royal family, who had moved there from Versailles. The world had grown dark and wide, and she was very small.
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