"Jonathan Wild, I'll be sworn," said Gay. \" Lucy said. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed. "Stow it, Nab!" exclaimed Quilt, angrily; "the kinchen's awake. Nobody could possibly find him now. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. After all, it was really rather funny.
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