" "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. “Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. ‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth. . She wanted to think. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. He hanged your first husband. Moreover, a souple o' porpusses came up with the tide this mornin', and ha' bin flounderin' about i' the Thames abuv Lunnun Bridge all day long; and them say-monsters, you know, always proves sure fore runners of a gale.
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