He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. I have never loved you.
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