He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. \"Thanks for lending me the clothes. Just because I attempt to seek the worst of men to kill, it doesn’t make it right. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. An old man and a young girl, the one as stubbornly offensive as the other.
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