These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. Jeez! It was about time. You are afraid of the warmth in your blood. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. He occupied one of the smaller houses near the station. Her voice was weak and flat. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. Presently, however, a sudden movement occurred, and disclosed his features, which were those of a young man of nearly his own age.
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