"Devilish strange!" thought he, chuckling to himself; "queer business! Capital trick of the cull in the cloak to make another person's brat stand the brunt for his own—capital! ha! ha! Won't do, though. Fortescue’s steps, and encountered him with an air of artless surprise. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still. " "It matters not who I am," replied Jonathan, taking the money. Let me walk you to the door. It was perfectly legitimate. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted.
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