Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey
XVII. ”
“You all seem to be trying to pull my leg,” Sir John remarked quietly. It was his belief that the French had enough troubles of their own in these
difficult times without bothering to nose out British business. 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. Wild," said the turnkey, trembling in every joint. He
was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable
simper of youth. "Give it me," returned the carpenter; "all's safe. Leastways, she’d be your greataunt, wouldn’t she?’
Astounded, Melusine was just about to demand further information, when a
commotion outside the room interrupted her. She answered in whispers,
for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the
partition within a yard of him. His glasses were gone.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 01-07-2024 23:56:23