Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. Sepulchre's clock struck eight. He was caressing an idea. "God in Heaven!" he cried, "the floor is covered with blood. He did not spend more time with her. “I am sure of it. Somehow or other his reputation as a hardened and unassailable bachelor had won for him during the last few years a comparative immunity from attentions on the part of those women with whom he had been brought into contact.
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