" "I am here in Canton," she replied, simply. ” Lucy cried, drawing attention from the somber crowd. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. When Jack came to speak of Jonathan Wild, his countenance fell. “I suppose you could at least tune it for us if you know how to play. ‘Tchah! So you’re the whelp’s girl, are you? Suppose you’ve nothing but that villainous French in your tongue. ” “I don’t believe it,” he answered hoarsely.
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