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"To—to—no matter what," returned the widow distractedly. I've sent for the priest. "Yes. 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. "Well, he's a pretty fellow at all events," observed Mrs. From this peaceful scene Jack's eye fell upon Jonathan, who, seated upon the stile, under the shade of an elder tree, was evidently watching him. "I haven't offended you?"—not contritely but curiously. "Look to the horses, Obadiah.
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