‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. Sheila grabbed the gun and laughed hysterically, brandishing the weapon and baying like a bear. Mr. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. He asked me to watch Mr.
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