She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. Returning to the audience-chamber in a by-no-means enviable state of mind, he commanded the Jew to throw the body of Thames into the Well Hole. ‘Will you stop hedging? I’m hanged if I go on with this ridiculous cat and mouse game. ’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. “Often,” he repeated, a little heavily. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. "It is Sheppard—Jack Sheppard—stop him!" And his shouts were reiterated by the pack of bloodhounds at his heels. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal.
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