I would that you were my own. ‘So I shall do so. Jonathan's wicked threat is fulfilled at last. A murmur ran through the assemblage, by several of whom Jack was recognised. “I’ll bring it to-morrow. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm.
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