I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. Who walked you home?\" Mike asked her, his voice tinged with jealousy, as she passed the garlic bread. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. You are more in my power than I am in yours.
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