" "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. " Jonathan gave utterance to a torrent of imprecations. "Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. It won't do to knock at the door, and Jonathan Wild's house is not quite so easy of entrance as Mr. Neither you nor your mother shall escape me.
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