A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. ‘You will arrest me? For—for—’ ‘Trespass, theft and spying,’ snapped Hilary. Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. ‘You see, it is that I am a female, and you all are men.
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