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‘You put that thing away now, missie. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. “Thank you both for treating me for all the world like I was your child. "I shall want a bottle or two of sack, and a flask of usquebaugh. I don't believe his name is Taber. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression.
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