—Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724. Then she called a hansom and drove home. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. It was impossible. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently.
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