" "I've heard of him," replied Jack, impatiently. ‘Melusine, don’t sit there. Your life is like a funeral March. " Roused by this reflection, filled with the deepest anxiety for his mother, and burning to be avenged upon Jonathan Wild, he grasped the iron bar, which, when he sat down, he had laid upon his knees, and stepped quickly across the room. That would not help her. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool.
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