Come!” They went out together and he called a hansom. The moment I entered the room, and found you a prisoner in the hands of Jonathan Wild, I guessed how matters stood, and acted accordingly. His tone was kind and sympathetic. My husband, he is cruel and wicked, and—and entirely undistinguished. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood.
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