" "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. . " "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. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. And here you are!” Her aunt opened all the fingers of her gloved hand in a rhetorical gesture.
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