Chapter 1546 of 1964 · 60 words · ~1 min read

XXVII.

'T is true, I might have chosen Piccadilly,[663] A place where peccadillos are unknown; But I have motives, whether wise or silly, For letting that pure sanctuary alone. Therefore I name not square, street, place, until I Find one where nothing naughty can be shown, A vestal shrine of Innocence of Heart: Such are--but I have lost the London Chart.