Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. "Mercy on us! what have I said!" cried the attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her mistress; "do sit down, your ladyship, while I run for the ratifia and rosa solis. "Not proud in the least, I declare.
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