" "Ah!" ejaculated the widow, hiding her face. Wood, reproachfully, as they returned to the parlour. I overheard Jonathan Wild's instructions to Quilt Arnold, and though he spoke in slang, and in an under tone, my quick ears, and acquaintance with the thieves' lingo, enabled me to make out every word he uttered. She is no longer mine; she is yours. I want you to be my lover. I don't care how lonesome it is.
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