"Or the street," returned Jack: "mind my words, the prison's not built that can keep me. And he who opposes me in it shall feel the weight of my hand. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. “Splendid it must be to be a composer. I've seen many a clever cracksman, but never one like him.
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