"I'll tell you," answered Jonathan, sternly. “Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. If you choose to requite me by detaining me, you are at liberty to do so. “I mean it. I—I hurt myself. Wudd I'm here, and have brought him a message from his unlawful son, and don't be detainin' me, my darlin', for there's not a minute to lose if the poor lad's to be recused from the clutches of that thief and thief-taker o' the wurld, Jonathan Wild. CHAPTER XII. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped.
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