F. Surely Capes was different. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection. After class his routine was unchanged. From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her.
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