216 “Please, get dressed. . . I didn’t allow myself to see things as they were in those days; now I do. She must get to the vestry. " "Be silent dog," cried Jonathan. "Mr. " "I wish I could have foreseen. . " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. Not much. If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand. Sheppard's habitation terminated a row of old ruinous buildings, called Wheeler's Rents; a dirty thoroughfare, part street, and part lane, running from Mint Street, through a variety of turnings, and along the brink of a deep kennel, skirted by a number of petty and neglected gardens in the direction of Saint George's Fields.
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