Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. " "It's Jonathan Wild," returned the widow, endeavouring to alarm him. ‘But you do not understand, mon ami. ‘You are too shrewd for me, ma’am. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. The rogue took everything we had. His vocal collection comprised a couple of flash songs pasted against the wall, entitled 'The Thief-Catcher's Prophecy,' and the 'Life and Death of the Darkman's Budge;' while his extraordinary mechanical skill was displayed in what he termed (Jack had a supreme contempt for orthography,) a 'Moddle of his Mas.
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