Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. ” He complained, handing it, case and all, to Lucy. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. "Do you think I'd part with the sweetest morsel of revenge on those terms? No! But I'll have the secret out of you by other means. It was the grand nursery of vice. Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey XVII. I almost wish we hadn't come. .
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