"Jack!" Her son averted his gaze. "Do you take me for a thiefcatcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?" "No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. ” Her father interrupted. Probably he will come around to-morrow and begin all over again.
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