But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad. "It's strange the antipathy he bears to Sheppard. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move.
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