" "It's Jonathan Wild," returned the widow, endeavouring to alarm him. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold. Marvel was almost dislodged from his seat on the coffin by a dead dog, which was hurled against him, and struck him in the face. ” “Your sister,” he answered, “did me the honour of dining with me last night. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture.
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