That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. Jack hastily retreated, and taking the first means of concealment that occurred to him, descended the cellar steps. ‘In that case, he is probably already dead, and you have nothing to worry about. ” “You forget,” she said, looking up at him with a faint smile, “that under the cloak of her name I am earning more money a week than I could ever have earned in a year by my own labours.
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