"Sold a good many, though. " "Jack's a noble fellow," exclaimed the head-jailer of Clerkenwell Prison, raising his glass; "and, though he played me a scurvy trick, I'll drink to his speedy deliverance. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. Instead of which they walked sharply. " "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily.
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