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He saw the girl, and sprang up in bed. "Not so;" answered Wild. He jumped back, cursing. ’ ‘Ah, that was well done of him,’ exclaimed Melusine. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. "Jonathan Wild, I'll be sworn," said Gay.

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