Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused. “MY DEAR VERONICA,—Your aunt tells me you have involved yourself in some arrangement with the Widgett girls about a Fancy Dress Ball in London. He had little money about him, and unless friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper. However this may be, such was the ill report of the place that few passed along the Old Bailey without bestowing a glance of fearful curiosity at its dingy walls, and wondering what was going on inside them; while fewer still, of those who paused at the door, read, without some internal trepidation, the formidable name—inscribed in large letters on its bright brass-plate—of JONATHAN WILD. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry. They walked in silence.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 22-09-2024 20:09:43
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