Herbert and Charles went to the Wheatsheaf at the corner of Severn Street. They stood talking in the yard when Herbert pulled a revolver out of his pocket. "This is meant for Skinner," he said. Charles told him to throw it away and Herbert threw it to the ground. The gun fired as it hit the floor. Herbert cried that life was just not worth living, but Charles paid little attention to that. Ever since the fall, he had been complaining of a pain behind his eye and often threatened to kill
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