“You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. Jonathan Wild and his bloodhounds, with a hundred others, incited by the reward, will be upon my track. “I’m not sure whether we don’t rather overdo all this higher education,” he said, with an effect of conveying profound meanings. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day.
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