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. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. Sheppard. 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. Is there anything you want?" She laid her hand on his forehead, and found it without fever. Wild on his guard against an assassin.
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