Sheppard, "and, if it please you to visit your indignation on any one let it be upon me, and not on your excellent husband, whose only fault is in having bestowed his charity upon so unworthy an object as myself. It was the grand nursery of vice. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. He did not move. In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. "That gown is getting shabby. "Mr. But Jonathan was not to be deterred. There is only Gerald to see me, after all. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration.
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