” “I positively insist upon knowing,” she declared cheerfully. A buxom piece, who looked, Gerald decided, as if she would be more at home in an amorous engagement in a hayloft than sitting demurely in a ballroom. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. Russell burned like a beacon, but Capes illuminated by darting flashes and threw light, even if it was but momentary light, into a hundred corners that Russell left steadfastly in the shade. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard.
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