If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world. ” “Perhaps you don’t. 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. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. “No, he grabbed my hand.
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