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“I want to know who you are. Jack will be tried to-morrow; and, as sure as my name's Obadiah Lemon he'll take up his quarters at the King's-Head," pointing to Newgate, "over the way. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. ” “I don’t mind knowing,” said Ann Veronica. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more.
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