"Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. ” She had spoken rather rapidly. He would take her with great force. Had he not said so? Not that she wished him to marry her. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him.
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