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‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. To this Jack replied, that he should be perfectly contented, provided he might have a small allowance of gin. ’ ‘He said!’ Melusine uttered scornfully. ‘But you are idiot. This spike is more than half cut through. He had taken it back. 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.
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