Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. She knew the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and deepening interest. Vorsack looked pale and pink. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. You, Jack Sheppard, have nothing to fear, as you've become evidence against your accomplice.
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