132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. John moved closer to her, getting up from his roost by one bench, he joined her at the bench where she sat. " The Gate, which crossed Newgate Street, had a wide arch for carriages, and a postern, on the north side, for footpassengers. Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame.
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