C. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. " As he said this, he moved forward a few paces, when, finding his feet glued to the ground by some adhesive substance, he stooped to feel what it was, but instantly withdrew his hand, with an exclamation of horror. \" He mumbled, his eyes on her breasts.
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