" Aware apparently in some degree, of the mistake she had committed, the poor maniac sprang towards him with frantic violence, and planted her long nails in his cheek. Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish slippers of a highly meretricious quality caught her eye. . Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. Let her see what she could make here. It was eleven o'clock.
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