Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. I am Jonathan Wild. Towards this box Sharples directed his steps, and, unlocking a hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large, and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy.
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