“Please forgive me, Lucy. The man’s hand flashed out, but immediately afterwards an oath and a cry of pain broke from his lips. Michelle moaned and Lucy, unable to help herself, stroked her hair. "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. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. "Stir a foot, at your peril. Come back—you must come back. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor.
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