And with his clenched hand he struck him a violent blow in the face. 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. It was most amusing. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. She did not remember him, but he said that he had introduced himself to her when she was visiting the butcher's family.
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