«If any part of any city deserves a book to itself, it is Piccadilly. We shall stand before some house in the hours when the traffic is stilled, and I shall tell of its history, of the men and women who dwelt there, and talked and loved and gambled and lived and died. I shall follow the lines of my temperament and tastes rather than those of completeness and impartiality: it is likely that I shall be voluble about Byron and reticent about Macaulay.»
(From the preface)
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