If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. ” Chapter XXVI ANNABEL IS WARNED “You!” David Courtlaw crossed the floor of the dingy little sitting-room with outstretched hands. Dismissing the post-chaise at the Old Bailey, he walked to Newgate to ascertain what had occurred since the escape.
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