” It was a tiny little room, daintily furnished, individual in its quaint colouring, and the masses of perfumed flowers set in strange and unexpected places. Left to Capting Roding, as he told me hisself, you’d be in prison this moment. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. . " "Perhaps, I wasn't," returned Thames, gloomily, as the remembrance of Jonathan Wild's foul insinuation crossed him.
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