I hated ever so much the gold coin in California. Its threateningly mercantile aspect made me shudder as at a speculator of Kakigara Cho of Tokio.
If I like Chicago it must be on account of its soiled paper money.
I will exchange all my gold to it.
I went to one store for a short skirt like that Chicago woman wears.
It may be a change, though shortness in hair and dress is my aversion. It may be advantageous in showing one’s shoes, though eternal exhibition isn’t tasty.
It would be an accurate account of my reason for buying to say that I singularly wished to use up a few jumbles of money.
I dulled myself reading the advertising bills through my hotel window.
There’s no block free from them.
’Vertisement!
Isn’t it horrid?