’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. " "Let me have them. " "It's Jonathan Wild," returned the widow, endeavouring to alarm him.
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