Gentlemen of the Mint," added he, pointing with his truncheon towards Mrs. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. But here,—even here, the demon was suffered to intrude, and Jack's thoughts were distracted by Jonathan Wild, who stood at a little distance from him, and kept his bloodthirsty eyes fixed on him during the whole of the service. He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face. Ann Veronica had no answer for a moment.
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