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. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. You've saved my life. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. The investigators should have thought to check inside the garbage can. If you want me, you know where to find me.
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