"And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. CHAPTER XXIII. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. The third time she escaped she reached the inconsequent barricade of the overturned table.
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