His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. He woke up with a start and the alarm clock read 4:46 P. Hill lost a little of his truculency. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. If you had not brought your companion here, it would not have happened. Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. It was clear it must be to-morrow. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. Jack then proceeded to liberate the captive from his bondage.
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