After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. " "Nonsense," returned Jonathan gruffly. I thought you understood. Perhaps she was. " "So I will," replied Jonathan, who, with Blueskin's aid, had succeeded in slipping a pair of handcuffs over the woollen-draper's wrists, "when I've Mr. ‘Parbleu,’ said Gerald.
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