"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. In fact he was thinking of other things. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica.
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