As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. ” She stared hard at her finger-nails. The occasion is worth a dash of the grape, lad. The servants had left the room. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. “It’s the centre of the intellectuals. 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. Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him. We have him as safe as a linnet in a cage; and could wring his neck round as easily. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew.
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