Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. “I’m still new to them. Sheppard, struggling to escape, and holding the infant at arm's length; "have mercy on this helpless innocent!" And the child, alarmed by the strife, added its feeble cries to its mother's shrieks. It was at the top of the building, and looked clear over a clustering mass of inferior buildings toward Regent’s Park. She had to do her thinking at home—under inspection.
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