And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. ” He began. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. . "We must keep still. 'Sdeath! what can I have done with it? Oh! here it is," cried Hogarth, picking it from the ground. The girl is in it as deeply as he is. ’ Gerald was staring at her, an arrested expression on his face. ’ She smiled on the last words, adding, ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for trying.
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