Annabel shook her head. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. But he might have broken out of prison, and yet not got over the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell. “There is my aunt,” she said. “Act three. “This ain’t no place for you. What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you.
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