"My portrait!" echoed Jack. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. Will you take it in to him?” The young man smiled in a superior manner. In fact, Gerald had given order to the coachman to drive out of Golden Square and then stop around the corner. He obeyed, letting the garment fall to the floor.
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