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I had no curiosity of that kind. ’ Trodger eyed her with suspicion. “Just come to that seat now you are here, Miss Stanley, and look down the other path; there’s a vista of just the common sort. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. I do swear. She understood. Although she had said a great deal when she heard about the shooting that had left poor Jack so badly injured. Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused.
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