How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI. “Thank God,” he exclaimed. The Procession to Tyburn. From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably. "You came hither under my protection, and you shall depart freely,—nay, more, you shall have an hour's grace. But kill me rather than commit this outrage. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. People of your sort—I don’t want the instincts to—to rush our situation.
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