‘Not kill me, I mean. Old Newgate 302 X. ” Ann Veronica agreed, and tried to make the manner of her assent cover a possible knowledge of a probable poem. 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. The great world outside! She stood motionless beside the trunk, deep in speculation; and thus the doctor found her.
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