The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. Come up stairs, and take a glass of brandy. The night his execution was therefore passed in a most anxious state of mind; nor was his uneasiness allayed by the appearance of Jonathan Wild, who, after he had been driven from the roof of the jail, repaired to the Middle Stone Ward in a fit of ungovernable passion, to vent his rage upon the prisoner, whom he looked upon as the cause of the present calamity. There were the burnt papers still in the grate.
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