‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. “You are wrong! I did not think you thought such things. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. I am your servitor. Valade stood his ground, holding the doorjamb, and facing up to the general. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence. My father's chief fear, I must tell you, is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild.
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