All alone; and nobody cared whether he lived or died. 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 reached for the door handle. ‘In love? I? Don’t be ridiculous. She removed the belt and drew down his zipper. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. Finding it impossible to descend on any side, without incurring serious risk, Jack resolved to return for his blanket, by the help of which he felt certain of accomplishing a safe landing on the roof of the house in Giltspur Street. Their houses became a refuge of ill repute, the source of rumor and intrigue in the highest echelons of society. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock.
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