" Davies reluctantly complied. He kept his keen eyes steadily fixed on Thames, as if awaiting to be addressed. I saw him lying on the footway. Starting off at a rapid pace, Jack dashed down Turnagain-lane, skirted the eastern bank of Fleet-ditch, crossed Holborn Bridge, and began to ascend the neighbouring hill. Several men and women were piled there like wood, dead, horribly gored. He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. “I say!” he said, without any movement. He suddenly became eloquent and plausible. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him.
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