Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. “The first person you love, Ann Veronica, is yourself—get hold of that! The soul you have to save is Ann Veronica’s soul. He had made it even easier by walking up the steps instead of taking the elevator. You've never seen a typhoon, have you?" "No. " "Most likely," observed Jonathan, with a slight sneer; "the ghost of some highwayman who has just breathed his last in Newgate, no doubt.
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