So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. Annabel had been here then. . Turning quickly round, in the hope of discovering the thief, he was no less surprised than distressed—for in spite of his faults, the woollen-draper was a good-natured fellow—to perceive Jack Sheppard in custody. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. I've seen many a clever cracksman, but never one like him.
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