She always dawdled, so it was easy. "I've obtained two packets, containing letters from Sir Rowland Trenchard, which I've no doubt will establish your title to the estates. I asked him—to take me away. "In the mean time, with your permission, I'll just make a few minutes of our conversation. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. Dismissing the post-chaise at the Old Bailey, he walked to Newgate to ascertain what had occurred since the escape. Then before she could say a word to arrest him he was at her side.
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