" Roused by this reflection, filled with the deepest anxiety for his mother, and burning to be avenged upon Jonathan Wild, he grasped the iron bar, which, when he sat down, he had laid upon his knees, and stepped quickly across the room. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. "' Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron bannisters, and measured the distance.
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