The chair, meanwhile, with its unhappy load, was transported at a brisk pace to Newgate. . Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. "Impossible!" echoed Wild, with a fearful imprecation. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion.
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