He wanted to put on his overcoat and come after you and look for you—in London. ‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. Certainly, we—that is Jarvis and I— knew nothing of it until after Mary’s death. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. .
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