She crooked her finger. I had not been near the Royal Society since—since you disgraced me. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid.
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