The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. Though within the last two days he had committed several heinous offences, and one of a darker dye than any with which the reader has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of conscience. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. He measured out the portion of another peg, the bottle wavering in his hand. ’ ‘But you don’t look anything like her,’ burst out Mrs Ibstock. ‘Wait a minute, though. Brendon always comes home with me, and tonight both are away.
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