And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. “Why come after me after all these years, Sebastianus? Haven’t you found any sycophants to convert, any nubile young nymphets to bring into the cannibal flock?” “Why should I do that if there is still the chance of you?” “What if there could be no chance of me? How do you know you can have me?” “I see your game. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. "What has delayed you?" demanded the knight impatiently. " "For an old bachelor?" "A human old bachelor. They sold him the whisky.
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