Acquainted with every part of the jail, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof. Though by no means so extensive or commodious as the modern prison, Old Newgate was a large and strongly-built pile. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her. 58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. ‘I just don’t understand you, Gerald. Wood. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI.
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