It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. Ah!" she screamed, with a sudden change of manner; and pointing to the window, which Jack had left open, and at which a dark figure was standing, "there is Jonathan Wild!" "Betrayed!" exclaimed Jack, glancing in the same direction. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand.
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