"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. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose. The manager twisted his moustache. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back. ’ ‘Bon,’ exclaimed Melusine, triumph soaring. He had made it even easier by walking up the steps instead of taking the elevator. "No offence, I hope, my dear Mrs. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. The hansom drove off.
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