Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. Wild here!" exclaimed Mrs. "His shin may need rubbing. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. However, as things have turned up, it's fortunate that I came back. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. You may well say it's impossible! His Majesty's jail of Newgate is admirably guarded, I must say. The chance it is the same for both. This woman knows me—’ throwing the remark at Lucilla ‘—and that I am the daughter of Mary Remenham. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze.
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