‘I know that, miss. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. Bête, she told herself fiercely. "Dog!" cried Wild, freeing himself by a powerful effort, and dealing Jack a violent blow with the heavy bludgeon, which knocked him backwards, "you are not yet a match for Jonathan Wild. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde. Let me say it to you.
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