My house is the next door to the Cooper's Arms, in the Old Bailey, opposite Newgate. Wood. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. ‘Or do I arrest you and have these soldiers march you off to gaol?’ A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being enacted before them. He stood transfixed. She—She can snub him.
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