Man's fate is in his own hands. Her face expressed nothing. The next moment he was by her side. "That's for Winifred," vociferated the Amazon, bringing the cudgel heavily upon his shoulder. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. For a moment, Kneebone had hesitated about giving the signal to Shotbolt, but, thinking a more favourable opportunity might occur, he determined not to hazard matters by undue precipitation. She could not help devouring him a little with her eyes across the Burger King booth, handsome shoulders visibly solid underneath his ridiculous polo shirt, his eyes all sweetness and light. “So you come from Anna, do you?” she remarked.
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