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The Night-Cellar XVIII. Kneebone, I'll make one of the party. You refuse me your confidence. " "All right. " 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. "You soon shall," rejoined Sheppard.
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