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He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. She did not wince. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. Jonathan, however, paid no sort of attention to this demonstration of hatred. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. " "But, do hear what it is," rejoined Winifred; "you know I'm shortly to be united to your nephew,—that is," she added, blushing, "when he can be married by his right name, for my father won't consent to it before. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage.
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