There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. . Vaguely she heard the distinctive sound of male voices as she saw Gosse dive towards the fateful pew. I was in hopes you'd be content with my hat and wig.
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