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” Miss Stanley reflected as Ann Veronica went toward the house. It had been her home for hundreds of years. CHAPTER IV. 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. "Ah!" exclaimed Jack, starting to his feet. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love.
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