CHAPTER XII. “You poor little girl!” he cried. ‘But you have told them that I have been disguised, no? That I have broken into Remenham House, and—’ ‘No, no, child, don’t be alarmed,’ said her great-aunt, her tone soothing. ” “In a minute, in a minute,” he answered, his eyes fixed upon Anna. ‘There are no Remenhams left. Damn! I’ve splashed. She limited herself to eating once a fortnight, until she discovered that she could go without comfortably for a month. She would then partially recall the items that she had heard about him, presenting each at the angle that was the most likely to inflict pain. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. She never expected to get her ladyship home alive. I shall want you.
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