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" "Do you happen to know Jonathan Wild, master?" inquired Jack, altering his tone, and assuming a more respectful demeanour. " "Would you have had him spare my mother's murderer?" cried Winifred. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. " "Well, I've a job open; but I don't want you to get the wrong idea of it. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. ” There was a moment’s silence. . You do not need my compliments. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt.
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