She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. Wudd I'm here, and have brought him a message from his unlawful son, and don't be detainin' me, my darlin', for there's not a minute to lose if the poor lad's to be recused from the clutches of that thief and thief-taker o' the wurld, Jonathan Wild. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. " "Curse on, and welcome," jeered Wild. He grunted, and his grip gave. She heard the shower running and looked at his floor. “How have you been lately, Lucy? You’ve been such a stranger. "The end is the most beautiful in English literature. .
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MS44MC4xNzMgLSAxNy0wNi0yMDI0IDIyOjQwOjE4IC0gOTc5MDUxNzQ1
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