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" "Perhaps, I wasn't," returned Thames, gloomily, as the remembrance of Jonathan Wild's foul insinuation crossed him. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. didn’t have to. " "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. So, then, when McClintock offered the coveted haven, Spurlock became afire to dramatize the idea. Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow. I am glad or sorry according as it has brought you happiness. I——” The door was thrown open. If I'd not gone mad, they would have hanged me. I'm a slave to my word. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad.
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