It won't do to knock at the door, and Jonathan Wild's house is not quite so easy of entrance as Mr. And Blueskin, who, for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, concluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever. Let me only wear your livery. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes.
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