When Jack came to speak of Jonathan Wild, his countenance fell. Not for me. On the contrary, it was impossible to look at him without perceiving that his resolution was unshaken. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. ‘Well! I hadn’t no notion as he’d got hisself married again. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing.
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