Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. Don’t ask me how. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. " "Why not?" "I am a thief, a hunted man. “A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper.
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