“My cab with all that luggage would give the whole show away. Wood. ’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. “No, I’m fine. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. Within forty-eight hours the girl would be on her way east and the boy see-sawing the South China Sea, for ever moving at absolute angles. That is what stands between us, if you would know—that. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his. "What ho!" he cried slapping Smith, who had fallen asleep with the brandybottle in his grasp, upon the shoulder.
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