Have you anything to ask me?” Ann Veronica readjusted her mind hastily. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. He has helped me out of scrapes though, no end of times. Anna was more difficult. He is in Newgate.
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