Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. She felt like a dried-up old woman. E. He has a grand time. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. . Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them. Jonathan Wild?" asked the attendant, in great trepidation.
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