"Enough!" rejoined Wild; "he shall not return. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. It was precisely two o'clock on the morning of Whit-monday, the 25th of May 1724, when the remarkable escape before detailed was completed: and, though it wanted full two hours to daybreak, the glimmer of a waning moon prevented it from being totally dark. “Shut up, you little faggot. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. A struggle of the most terrific kind now ensued.
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