“And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. The prisoner was then thrust in by Quilt. "Coming!—so is midnight—so is Jonathan Wild," retorted Jack, with a significant look at Thames. We want it badly at the present time. Worse than any man. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him.
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