"Do you not know me, father?" said the young man, advancing towards him, and warmly grasping his hand. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. When Jack came to speak of Jonathan Wild, his countenance fell. Most of them didn’t, anyhow. Fast.
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