‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. He remembered that he had heard stories about the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very gay and a very brilliant little coterie of pleasure-seekers. She traced him by his scent. It would put the whole adventure on a broader and better footing; it seemed, indeed, almost the only possible way in which she might emerge from her rebellion with anything like success. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard.
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