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. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. ‘So it is that you have made Jacques betray me. “Where have you been, young lady? I know your kind, I know you sneak out every night! How long do you think it could go on? You little murdering slut! Whore! I found you out, found your blouse! Evidence! How many of your johns have you killed why you have lived at my house? Huh? They’re going to put you away for a long time, honey.
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