Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. Towards this box Sharples directed his steps, and, unlocking a hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large, and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. She passed people in the streets and regarded them with a quickening apprehension, once or twice came girls dressed in slatternly finery, going toward Regent Street from out these places.
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