The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. "Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. I’ll have to think of something else. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. Michelle winked at her and left to join the gathering of seats in the center of the theater.
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