Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. 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. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. She tried to appear as if she had never been questioned before. I do swear. ‘Suzanne, if I may say, had also not the choice. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. I get your side all right. Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you. She was wan and white.
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