" The tone was neutral. The Ragged Edge. ” “Not for you?” “No. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready. His legs were dreadfully swelled; his hands bruised; and his fetters occasioned him intolerable pain. A sudden knock at the door startled her. How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI. Probably something he had eaten.
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