I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. Don't feel fussed upon my account. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance. I’ve made no mention of guns and daggers or, indeed, any of the more exciting aspects of the business. "Try!" Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution, but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing. “Why?” “I still love you.
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