"He has fallen by the hand of Blueskin, who brought me these packets. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. He fancied, indeed, that he beheld a figure spring upon the starling at the moment when the boats came in contact; but, as he could perceive no one near him, he concluded he must have been mistaken. ‘My name’s NOT More, Mr. Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused.
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