Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey XVII. We WERE thieves. “As if it could possibly matter what such a person thinks of you. ” “As long as you remain under my roof—” he began, and paused. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation.
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