“Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. When Jack came to speak of Jonathan Wild, his countenance fell. At length, however, she threw herself off; and Jack carefully guiding the rope she landed in safety. One peculiarity she did not fail to notice.
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