Jack was lying so still, for a moment she panicked. Through no fault of her own. ” “Where is your husband?” Anna asked. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. ‘You put that thing away now, missie. Having now fairly got out of Newgate for the second time, with a heart throbbing with exultation, he hastened to make good his escape.
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