She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. "I vent to de New Prish'n, and on wishitin' his shel vid de turnkey, vot should ve find but de shains on de ground, de vinder broken, and Jack and Agevorth Besh gone.
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