"My heart," rejoined Thames, firmly; "which now tells me I am in the presence of his murderer. “There’s twenty before you, and Mr. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. 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. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. . ‘Of course I see that,’ she said impatiently.
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