" "Do you happen to know Jonathan Wild, master?" inquired Jack, altering his tone, and assuming a more respectful demeanour. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. Here, take this youngster, Terry; my legs are lighter than old Nab's. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. “I do not know you,” she said coldly. "You forgot your lunch," she said. Vanity was a vice not just to be deprecated, but effectively strangled at birth.
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