His voice when he spoke was almost fiercely assertive, but there was an undernote of nervousness. Let us pass, Sir. . I thought I’d see Paris, do the thing—like a toff. ‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature. Annabel, come to the door with me,” she added a little abruptly. Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable.
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