Spurlock stepped into the room. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. A group of ten began emerging outside the ticket area. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever met. Twice he cleaned the old briar; still there was no improvement.
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