"My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. "You won't refuse it, Mr. ” Ennison obeyed Anna’s gesture, and was silent. " "Well, Sir, his name?" "Jonathan Wild. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. I’ve had enough of it. ‘None of them means anything to you at all? How odd. " "Thank you! thank you!" faltered Jack, in a voice full of emotion.
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