When the bell rang, she lagged behind as was her habit. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. ‘—and what do I do? Well, we know what I do. "And, now,—to Newgate. I should have gotten out of here months ago!” She opened the passenger side and reclined in the bucket seat. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue.
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