The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. I'll try to fill in the gaps. She must not show anything. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. She was thinking fast now, all her senses on the alert.
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