I've been thinking about it ever since morning. “Cheveney!” she repeated. It was my destiny to have her. . She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. "Coming!—so is midnight—so is Jonathan Wild," retorted Jack, with a significant look at Thames.
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