The hansom sped through the crowded streets. "But pray tell me if her husband has escaped?" "Her husband!" echoed Jonathan scornfully. Death belongs to God, young man. He was in a curious state of desperation. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression. He had just arrived from Manchester, whence he had been summoned by that treacherous thief-taker. He had reacted by pushing her away, disgust and frustration on his face. “It’s best,” he said, “to make it a good round sum. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised.
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