He returned, sitting on the floor beside the couch adoring her and stroking her bare arms. I don’t know. He did make her perceive something of the acute, tormenting desire for her that had arisen in him and possessed him. "Is she dead?" "No—no," answered Hogarth. "Dog!" cried Wild, freeing himself by a powerful effort, and dealing Jack a violent blow with the heavy bludgeon, which knocked him backwards, "you are not yet a match for Jonathan Wild. As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over, and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard, his firmness completely deserted him, and he sank beneath the weight of his affliction. Like most officers, he’d had it especially made, for a man who loved danger had need of a precision instrument of defence. They had their little dreams about her.
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