"Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. “Oh, there’s no doubt of it! Since the girls of the eighties broke bounds and sailed away on bicycles—my young days go back to the very beginnings of that —it’s been one triumphant relaxation. They were actually pissed at me that I quote broke up with you unquote. ‘Mademoiselle. My name is Wild— Jonathan Wild. Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. "Do you realize that you are several kinds of a damned scoundrel?" he began. Over the chimney-piece was pasted a handbill, purporting to be "The last Dying Speech and Confession of TOM SHEPPARD, the Notorious Housebreaker, who suffered at Tyburn on the 25th of February, 1703. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. ‘I know just what he was doing. The rest of his attire was nondescript.
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