‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. It was below consciousness, elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively. "But if my career were truly exhibited, it must be as one long struggle against destiny in the shape of—" "Jonathan Wild," interposed Gay. The quarry had passed out into the open sea.
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