“Diedermayer’s a kiss-ass. He was offered the Bowl, but he left it and smiled, Crying, "Keep it till call'd for by JONATHAN WILD! "The rascal one day, "Will pass by this way, "And drink a full measure to moisten his clay! "And never will Bowl of Saint Giles have beguiled "Such a thorough-paced scoundrel as JONATHAN WILD!" V. For so far she had kept it uncashed. He saw her young and graceful back as she descended from the carriage, severely ignoring him, and recalled a glimpse he had of her face, bright and serene, as his train ran out of Wimbledon. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. I’ve got imagination. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion. "It only leads to the fencing crib," replied Wild. She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window.
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