‘Went to the dogs, did Jarvis, after Mary died. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. He would go there. ‘—and what do I do? Well, we know what I do. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. " "Respecting Thames Darrell?" observed Jack.
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