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And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. “You are a thousand times more beautiful,” he said, “than anything else could be. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. And at the sight something leaped within her. ’ ‘Ah. ” Lucy and Sebastian returned to the mausoleum.
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