Ah!" she screamed, with a sudden change of manner; and pointing to the window, which Jack had left open, and at which a dark figure was standing, "there is Jonathan Wild!" "Betrayed!" exclaimed Jack, glancing in the same direction. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. “What do you think of that?” he asked. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. " "Perhaps not," replied Jack, carelessly.
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