How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. “I heard the other day that she’d been taken in by some cad of a fellow who was cutting a great dash in Paris, personating Meysey Hill, the great railway man. The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held her fast. ” “Please don’t let him know I’m here yet.
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