“Lots of ‘em!” Capes chuckled. "Of course," responded the widow, heaving a deep sigh. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. ‘I was just looking the place over when I heard you calling out. The Procession to Tyburn 462 XXXII. So I come round the other way and—Lordy, miss, I’m that sorry I made a mull of it.
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