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. Wood's boat bearing up towards him. CHAPTER I. I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem. ” “Be very sure that you do,” Anna said slowly. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded.
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