“Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. “No, you weren’t bad in the slightest. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild.
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