His breakfast despatched, which he ate with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate, chuckling as he went at the consternation which his appearance would create amongst the turnkeys. To simplify matters, he carried a coloured paper lantern upon which his license number was painted in Arabic numerals. “Indeed, no,” he answered. “Did you tell him?” Capes smiled faintly. It was at breakfast on this day that he told Ruth he had sent to Batavia for some dresses.
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