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—Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724. . Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. “Gods!” cried Ann Veronica, and kept him standing. “I’m thirsty. "I can't say I do," replied Wood. ” “Call it what you like,” Anna answered. Jonathan's vexation at the disappointment was expressed in the bitterest imprecations, and he returned as speedily as he could to the trench. .

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