’ ‘She once more,’ came in disgust from the girl on the bed. She had need of a devoted cavalier and Jack had proved eminently valuable. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Around her neck was a little gold chain. ‘Don’t dare call her that to my face. 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. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard.
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