If I'd not gone mad, they would have hanged me. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. . “A move of any sort would certainly be fatal. His tone was rough, almost threatening. John, I have something to say to you. Stanley.
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