At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. "You know my motive well enough," answered Jonathan. Now it occurred to him that to show her the sealed letter would be a better way. "All right," replied Sheppard, with affected indifference. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say.
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