" "Why didn't he arrest Mr. She looked stealthily at Anna. ” A spot of colour flared in Anna’s cheek as she glanced towards the speaker. Headed by Jonathan, all the turnkeys then repaired to the upper part of the jail, and, approaching the Red Room by a circuitous route, several doors were unlocked, and they came upon the scene of Jack's exploits. Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. “Yes, I remember,” she said. “He spends hours of every day on the pavement below,” Anna answered calmly. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed.
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