The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs. Free, there is nothing left to her but the canal. The hotel on the Peak had the aspect of a fairy castle. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. Starting off at a rapid pace, Jack dashed down Turnagain-lane, skirted the eastern bank of Fleet-ditch, crossed Holborn Bridge, and began to ascend the neighbouring hill. You shall not take me alive.
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