She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before. I’ll feel fine as soon as I get out of my wet clothes. Sheppard remained dissolved in tears. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement.
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