She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. Well, I was all for dragging in Bow Street there and then, and getting the pair of those fraudsters thrown in gaol. Michelle’s eyes were red and bloodshot. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. But just now there is nothing which you or anybody can do. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you.
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