’ ‘How can it be in dispute?’ frowned Mrs Sindlesham. If I'd been in the way, instead of Jonathan Wild, that accident wouldn't have happened. " "What has he done?" "He has just naturally peeved his Uncle Sam. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles. He did not play golf, but took his exercise on horseback, which was also unsympathetic. After venting his wrath in the wildest manner, and uttering the most dreadful execrations, Jonathan retired to another part of the prison, where he passed the night in consultation with the governor, as to the best means of conveying the prisoner securely to Tyburn.
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