\" She said, and they walked down the pebble stone path designed for joggers and bikers. As Jack was removed, he noticed Jonathan Wild at a little distance from him, eyeing him with a look of the most savage satisfaction. The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. A long shrill cat-call in the gallery seemed to be the signal.
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