" "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. “Ohmigod, Katy, you fucking killed her!” A trio of girls sniggered. Nothing stronger than water has passed my lips for years. Of this man Kneebone resolved to go in pursuit; and leaving Jack in charge of the constable, he proceeded to the small inn,—which bore then, as it bears now, the name of the Six Bells,—where, summoning the hostler, his steed was instantly brought him, and, springing on its back, he rode away at full speed. "Well, it's a good story. Here was a little corner of the past—a tragic corner. "Surely," observed Thames, laughing, "to one who entertains so high an opinion of Jonathan Wild, as Mr.
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