“Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. " "Perhaps, I wasn't," returned Thames, gloomily, as the remembrance of Jonathan Wild's foul insinuation crossed him. Indeed, it was his boast that he could find his way through any part of London blindfolded; and by this time, it would seem, he had nearly arrived at his destination; for, grasping his companion's arm, he led him along a narrow entry which did not appear to have an outlet, and came to a halt. “Beats me. I wasn’t. Ruth had not expected to be kissed; so the omission passed unnoted.
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