Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. He has been lodged in every round-house in the metropolis, and has broken out of them all, and boasts that no prison can hold him. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. I don’t know if I express myself clearly. If he keeps his word, I'll keep mine. “I’ve been looking out for you,” he said. "What has happened?" asked Sister Prudence. They were terrible, horrible people.
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