Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. "The warrant for his execution is arrived. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me. . " At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow. Gerald was instantly on the alert.
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