The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. ’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. I was always told my mother died the day I was born. Sheppard," said Wood in a soothing tone. The room they were in was a sort of closet, with the door locked outside; but this was only a moment's obstacle to Jack, who with a chisel forced back the bolt.
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