“If it is a choice between the two,” she answered, “I must be Annabel Pellissier. After all, old P. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. He disappeared into its thick doors like a magician’s rabbit. You told me he was going back to Newgate after supper, so I mayn't have another opportunity.
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