" "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. The girl was in the game now, and that narrowed the circle.
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