The delay was only momentary. The sound of her flying feet brought Gerald leaping for the door. There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his infernal dwelling. —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet.
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