“This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. It would be a great matter, I must own, to bring Jonathan Wild to justice. "And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. If you can imagine it, I survived it. You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure.
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