"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. But with the morning, the glorious unstained morning the passion of living would stir even the blood of a clod. “Ciao. ‘In fact you admitted only that you had no more weapons. Never mind. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast.
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