No doubt he knew enough of his world to recognise that he stood little chance against the word of a major of militia. ‘It’s a pretty name. I get my driver's license tomorrow. If we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday. His grief was so audible, that it attracted the notice of some of the bystanders, and Thames was obliged to beg him to control it. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside.
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