“No. “Sir John is a man of the world,” her aunt answered coldly. " There had never been, from that fatal hour eight months gone down to this, the inclination to confess. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. It would be a great matter, I must own, to bring Jonathan Wild to justice. Seventeen hours, sixteen hours. Through an open door was a glimpse of the bathroom—a vision of luxury, out of which Annabel herself, in a wonderful dressing-gown and followed by a maid presently appeared.
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