"Dog!" cried Wild, freeing himself by a powerful effort, and dealing Jack a violent blow with the heavy bludgeon, which knocked him backwards, "you are not yet a match for Jonathan Wild. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. She was enchanted by the beauty of the other girls, who were magically transformed into fairies and elves by makeup into seemingly unfamiliar yet glamorous new people.
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