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His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. She—She can snub him. ” “What else,” Lady Lescelles murmured, “are men for?” Anna laughed. "Is this Jack Sheppard? Oh, la! I'm undone! We shall all have our throats cut! Oh! oh!" And she rushed, screaming, into the passage where she fell down in a fit.
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