You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom. " "My conscience acquits me of all share in the offence," replied Jack, humbly. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me.
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