This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. She had made her first fight for dignity and freedom as a grown-up and independent Person, and this was how the universe had treated her. “Have you heard things?” The tears stood in her eyes. I never yet heard of a Christians as was named after the Shannon or the Liffy; and the Thames is no better than a dhurty puddle, compared wi' them two noble strames.
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