There's another lad at the gate waiting for him—the same who was here just now, that Sir Rowland was speaking of, who fastened up the jewelcase for her ladyship. Never! Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room. Wood had retired to his own room, where he had just summoned Thames. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. They were Jonathan Wild and Quilt Arnold.
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