‘I might have killed you,’ she snapped, ‘if only you did not say anything. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him. . When Jack came to speak of Jonathan Wild, his countenance fell. Drummond had made an abominable mistake. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door.
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