Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. I don’t want a family in the suburbs and Christmases at the Florida house and summers at the Hamptons. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. Her heartbeat quickened. "I would have done more, if necessary. Good-bye. I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister.
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