“Miserable bounder,” he murmured. How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. ‘Monstrously unfair of you, Hilary.
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