By the by, Mr. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. It must have been impossible to see me through that much rain. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait. ” “You love—Anna?” she exclaimed.
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