Were any thing to happen to him, Newgate wouldn't be what it is, nor Tyburn either. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. In Darrell's open features, frankness and honour were written in legible characters; while, in Jack's physiognomy, cunning and knavery were as strongly imprinted. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience.
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