’ He quirked an eyebrow. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. “Ye Gods!” she said at last.
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