She is like some character out of Phra the Phoenician: she's been buried for thirty years and just been excavated. Ah!" she screamed, with a sudden change of manner; and pointing to the window, which Jack had left open, and at which a dark figure was standing, "there is Jonathan Wild!" "Betrayed!" exclaimed Jack, glancing in the same direction. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. " "Let this speak for me," said Sheppard, tossing a heavy bag of money towards him.
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