” She stared hard at her finger-nails. ’ She let out a peal of laughter. She wasn’t well-liked really, I think people were jealous of her. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. Recovering himself quickly his instinct of self-defence was quicker than his recollection of Anna’s presence. ‘It is the life I know. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. You do not understand, and you would like to. . . She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. She said that your mother was only fifteen when she went to live with them.
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