She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. And she would have to go tomorrow. Anna, in her strange striking way, was radiantly beautiful. ‘When she lies outright, she thinks about it. Gives you a right to hang on to the old man until he busts—practically. Here I am as an alternative either to nasty work—or going home. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild.
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