Sheppard. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. ” “But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?” “Please!” she insisted. Sheppard's habitation terminated a row of old ruinous buildings, called Wheeler's Rents; a dirty thoroughfare, part street, and part lane, running from Mint Street, through a variety of turnings, and along the brink of a deep kennel, skirted by a number of petty and neglected gardens in the direction of Saint George's Fields. . Good night. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign.
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