’ The breathy laugh came, and Madame Valade abandoned her fan. He's on the ragged edge. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright. ‘Nevertheless, he will neither help me, nor will I seek his help. He waited. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. His sword done with, he took up the bludgeon; balanced it in his hand; upon the points of his fingers; and let it fall with a smash, intentionally, upon the table.
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