‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy. "Fool!" he cried, "do you think I wouldn't have secured you before this if I hadn't some motive for my forbearance?" "And that motive is fear," replied Jack contemptuously. “No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. Do you not remember that this capitaine has heard us talking? You may believe that Gérard will not let the soldiers leave from the gate. I thought my sister and her murdered husband dragged me hither, to this very room, and commanded you to slay me. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be.
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