It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. 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. “Had he better have a nurse? I will be responsible for anything of that sort. "And I," muttered Jack. She did not want to go to the doctor's people; however kindly that might be, they would be only curious strangers.
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