“You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. “I shan’t eat him. He brought another small loaf, and a can with which he replenished the pitcher, recommending Jack to be careful, as he would get nothing further till morning. "Coming!—so is midnight—so is Jonathan Wild," retorted Jack, with a significant look at Thames.
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