Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. You have been burning paper, I see. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. "I might now send you on a similar journey!" replied Jonathan, with a bitter smile, and preserving the unmoved demeanour he had maintained throughout; "but I prefer conveying you, in the first instance, to Newgate.
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