Under the plumed hat, her eye kindled. She felt her own body stir, ready for more. “Surely!” he remarked, with an expression of worried appeal. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. While this was passing, Jonathan opened one of the upper windows, and fired several shots upon the assailants. Small blame to her.
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