He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. You denied it at the time—but unfortunately I have proof. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. " "Didn't some of them … try to touch you?" "Not the true unfortunates.
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