I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. "Keep off, you accursed jade!" roared Jonathan, "—off, I say, or—" And he struck her a violent blow with his clenched hand. You will make him get his daughter, if you please. "We may trust him," he added in a whisper; "he is a staunch friend of the good cause. I've seen many cases like it. The blood will rest on your head.
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