" "Do you happen to know Jonathan Wild, master?" inquired Jack, altering his tone, and assuming a more respectful demeanour. Anna said nothing. We’ll go. He laughed suddenly, and released her. ” “For example?” “Your dyed hair. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. "It's a miserable weakness to be afraid of bloodshed. " So saying, he descended a short spiral staircase, and, entering a long stone gallery, from which several other passages branched, took one of them, and after various turnings—for he was familiar with all the intricacies of the prison— arrived at the cell of which he was in search. ” A dull flush burned upon his cheeks.
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