" "I tell 'ee what, landlord," observed the old sailor, quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the house, "you've said good-b'ye to your friend. He moved her dress from her shoulders and off her torso. You cannot refuse me this. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. You did it on your own?” Ann Veronica smiled. "So much the better," rejoined Sir Rowland.
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