She held it by the neck and broke the end of the bottle on the hard dirt. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. Annabel entered. ‘Ah, yes? To what do I pretend?’ ‘That,’ Gerald said regretfully, ‘I have not yet been able to fathom. But you could have just as easily lost your womb in the Pestilence, and your life. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. White told me where to find you. But of what avail is this? You have no execution, no finish. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips.
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