A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. Thames Street was wholly impassable. Nor had Jack been idle all this time. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. She had reason enough to be grateful to Prudence Sindlesham and it was not fair that this horrible feeling of loneliness should be made known to her.
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