"Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. " "I see. org/fundraising. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him.
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