Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey XVII. ‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade. Accordingly, having armed himself with various weapons, including a stout oaken staff then ordinarily borne by the watch, and put a coil of rope and a gag in his pocket, to be ready in case of need, he set out, about ten o'clock, on the expedition. I do not blame you for the act. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation.
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