” Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps. The streets were deserted as they drove past familiar sites. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. I am Jonathan Wild. Her husband quickly joined the fray, making her giggle and laugh. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. I've a child here whom I wish to convey across the water without loss of time. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way.
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