"And I," muttered Jack. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. Footman or some such.
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