Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. I am apparently a beast, a pig and an imbecile, too, if memory serves me. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. " And he hastily related the occurrences in Jonathan Wild's house.
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