To his relief, Mrs Sindlesham stepped into the breach, grasping her cane and rising painfully from her chair. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. He was afraid if he stayed that he would make a fool of himself. “He wants me to have dinner at his parent’s house tonight,” still looking at a series of spots on the carpeting. Sheppard, who had been stricken down by the blow that prostrated her assailant, looked up, she perceived Jonathan Wild kneeling beside the body of Blueskin.
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