"I should be sorry to proceed to extremities," continued Sheppard, again raising the pistol. As for the doctor, he found a pleasure in this service that would have puzzled him had he paused to analyse it. Guns were impossible. He sat down. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. The world had grown dark and wide, and she was very small.
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