He seemed to charge her with the ruin of their situation. But David Courtlaw has been here. " "Damnation!" cried Jonathan, stamping his foot with uncontrollable rage. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. Rowland felt himself sinking beneath the powerful grasp of his enemy. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone.
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