You might even tire of me by then, you know. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. Men fled from their tottering habitations, and returned to them scared by greater dangers. “Good-bye,” he said earnestly. . “John. ” A momentary bitterness crept into Anna’s tone. 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.
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