Wood, at the top of her voice. "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. “I really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any one would recognize me. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. " "Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his lordship won't forget you. Can you come over?” “I think so.
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