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She wondered when her tormentors would simply lose interest now that Katy had been discovered and suspended. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. ‘Laisse-moi. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head.
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