Now that she was his, to make or mar, she presented an extraordinary fascination. "Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her. You’re a piss-poor liar, John. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. Taking his new purchase under his arm, Jack proceeded to a small tavern in the same street, where, having ordered dinner, he went to a bed-room to attire himself.
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