Sheppard: "nothing can save me. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. Was he planning on spending more time with her once in the country? The streets choked with beggars and the dying. It was the gratification of an immense necessity. ” He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief.
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