“How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. Returning to Mrs Sindlesham’s chair, he held up the miniature so the face depicted there was turned towards the old lady. “Then I will do what I can,” Anna promised. I'd have got something nice. White, my landlady, believes his story. "Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack. “There isn’t any way you could be worse than John.
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