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. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. ’ ‘She told you!’ ‘And,’ pursued Gerald, ignoring his friend’s scornful interjection, ‘that it was not always convenient to be dressed as a young girl. Jonathan caught her in his arms. ‘You make a game with me, I think.
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