He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. She’ll have to wait for dinner,” he said, uncomfortably. Under another name,—not my own hateful one,—I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign service, and win myself a reputation, or perish honourably. ‘Soldier of fortune. Use the gilt, man!" "There's no need of picklock or crow-bar, here, Mr. 1. " "It'll be over in a few minutes," rejoined Jonathan, impatiently; "in fact, it'll be over too soon for me. —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724.
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