" On quitting the Lodge, Wild repaired to his own habitation. Jack instantly sprang to his feet, and as his guards construed the motion into an attempt to escape, several of them drew their swords and motioned to him to sit down. Like carpenter, like chips. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. " "He protect you," retorted Blueskin, maliciously; "you haven't a worse enemy on the face of the earth than Jonathan Wild. "Come away!" he cried, with the roar of a demon.
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