. " "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. Prudence attacked her chicken wing. He called to the other attendant, who held the torch. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. " "Mr.
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