Wood, contemptuously, "he'll never mend till he comes to Tyburn. No, don’t interrupt me. Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased.
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