His face fell. “You be off, missie,” said the fatherly policeman. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. " "So it is, child. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her.
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