"My demeanour ought to convince you that I came with no hostile intention. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. ‘Damnation! Too late. Wood fared still worse. He shook his head all the time. You thanked me tersely, then, barely noticing my existence you went right back to your conversation! I was somewhat crushed but my spirits were lifted when the butcher revealed who your husband-to-be was. Come!” They went out together and he called a hansom.
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