Kneebone, and feeling certain of capturing him if he did so, Shotbolt, on quitting Newgate, hurried to the New Prison to prepare for the enterprise. Somebody may be on the watch—perhaps, that old ginger-hackled Jew. Please to let me go there. Presently McClintock came in. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. " "Iss, missis," grinned the black.
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