Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. She went to market every day to fetch the daily bread and more herbs for more medicines and potions, plus treats for the apprentices made of honey and almond paste. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. The popcorn dwindled to a half a bucket, his heart settled into its normal routine.
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