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CHAPTER XXXI. To my loving husband Rodney, who is truly a dream come true. Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey XVII. " "Follow me, then," cried Thames, drawing his sword, and springing through the window. I am afraid, Anna, just a little afraid, that in Paris I and my friends here might seem a trifle advanced. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries.
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