"Defend yourself!" cried Jack, drawing his sword. "Dog!" cried Wild, freeing himself by a powerful effort, and dealing Jack a violent blow with the heavy bludgeon, which knocked him backwards, "you are not yet a match for Jonathan Wild. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. Ever since he came here, three months ago, he has been the life and soul of the place; and now the death warrant has arrived, instead of being cast down, as most men would be, and as all others are, he's gayer than ever. ’ She turned, her eyes narrowed.
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