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. " So saying, he sprang, with a bound like that of a tiger-cat, against the throat of the woollen-draper. Ennison listened, and his eyes glowed. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses.
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