‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth. The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane. You may well say it's impossible! His Majesty's jail of Newgate is admirably guarded, I must say. ’ Lucy giggled. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies.
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