However this may be, such was the ill report of the place that few passed along the Old Bailey without bestowing a glance of fearful curiosity at its dingy walls, and wondering what was going on inside them; while fewer still, of those who paused at the door, read, without some internal trepidation, the formidable name—inscribed in large letters on its bright brass-plate—of JONATHAN WILD. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. It wailed at Lucy, chubby arms reaching towards her, pleading. Leave the rest to me.
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