Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her. " "So I find, Rowland," replied the other, in accents of deep disappointment, and at the same time relinquishing his grasp. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage.
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