" Her attitude now entirely sisterly, he ceased to be afraid of her; there was never anything in her eyes (so far as he could see) but friendly interest in all he said or did. Wood could stand it no longer. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. ‘She didn’t behave in the least like an émigré, if these people are anything to go by. Too late now. She observed a man walking on the opposite side of the way and looking toward her. .
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