"I vent to de New Prish'n, and on wishitin' his shel vid de turnkey, vot should ve find but de shains on de ground, de vinder broken, and Jack and Agevorth Besh gone. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. . ’ She seemed to recollect herself suddenly. ’ Her breath tightened and she was obliged to control an inner ferocity. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. He has no imagination, no real generosity.
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