The militia offered little in the way of relief. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. "Coming!—so is midnight—so is Jonathan Wild," retorted Jack, with a significant look at Thames. Miss Annabel is her sister. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition.
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