"There it is!" cried Sir James, eagerly. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. They give themselves airs, but so it is. "There's the exact expression I want. "He has just broken out of Newgate.
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