When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. Naturally he was a member of the National Honor Society and a straight A student on the Honor Roll. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her. There was no one to be seen. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. Wild—" "I did," interrupted Jack; "and I never yet broke an engagement. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. She might even forgive him.
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