His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. I am Jonathan Wild. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. “I thought you weren’t getting along so well with your mother these days. " "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck.
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