"Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. "Hold hard," cried he, addressing the waterman; "I'll give the gentleman a lift. " "I expect no commiseration," returned Mrs. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. " "Go, Sir," rejoined the knight, haughtily. " "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily.
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