‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. The militia offered little in the way of relief. ‘You are really not helping matters, my friend. "From Jonathan Wild's confidential servant what could be expected but treachery?" With this, he proceeded to dress himself in Quilt Arnold's clothes, pulled the wig over his face and eyes so as completely to conceal his features, slouched the hat over his brows, drew the huge boots above his knees, and muffled himself up in the best way he could.
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