P. "We're all damaged—we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices. "He comes!" cried a thousand voices, and the shout ascended to Smithfield, descended to Snow Hill, and told those who were assembled on Holborn Hill that Sheppard had left the prison. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals.
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