The man, who was just able to move, pointed towards Giltspur-street. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. An hour was then passed in conversation as to the possibility of rendering any assistance to Jack; in deploring his unhappy destiny; and in the consideration of the course to be pursued in reference to Jonathan Wild. He no longer made love to her, as there was no point. The monster, Wild, when he visited my dungeon last night, told me, to add to my misery, that she occupied a cell near me.
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