"A friend," replied Jonathan, uncocking the pistol, and placing it in his pocket. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. Neither Charvill nor his heir know anything of your presence in England. Russell trouble, a good lot of trouble. To reach it would be a most difficult undertaking.
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