‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. He closed the door. "Then it is not too late to save him. " Roused by this reflection, filled with the deepest anxiety for his mother, and burning to be avenged upon Jonathan Wild, he grasped the iron bar, which, when he sat down, he had laid upon his knees, and stepped quickly across the room. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. " "It's a hopeless job," grumbled Blueskin, "and harm will come of it.
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