"Dog!" cried Wild, freeing himself by a powerful effort, and dealing Jack a violent blow with the heavy bludgeon, which knocked him backwards, "you are not yet a match for Jonathan Wild. He lost control of the machine, was upset and nearly killed. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. In truth, Sheila never saw Lucy murder anyone at all, she only saw the blood. "Every inch of it," replied the woollen-draper.
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