” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. " The Gate, which crossed Newgate Street, had a wide arch for carriages, and a postern, on the north side, for footpassengers. And if she was ever found living in the area like that, homeless, John could somehow find out. Her heartbeat quickened. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her.
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