But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. She refused coffee, though she knew that anyhow she was doomed to a sleepless night. Easy enough. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century.
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