“I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me. The tension was palpable. Jack's first object was to seek out Blueskin, whom he had no doubt he should find at the New Mint, at Wapping, for the Old Mint no longer afforded a secure retreat to the robber; and, with this view, he made the best of his way along a bye-lane leading towards Hockley-in-the-Hole. The boat in which he rode was not overset. Prom a knot of idlers at a public-house, he learnt that Jonathan Wild had just ridden past, and that his setters were scouring the country in every direction. Profligate women are never reclaimed. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. You do not know him. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. As he crossed the cellar, he passed so near to Jack who had concealed himself behind a piece of furniture that he almost touched him. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens.
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