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. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. CHAPTER XXVII. " "Ha!" ejaculated Trenchard. What more was to be done? Frith’s investigations had proved fruitful, and the man was now keeping an eye on Valade. Yet even now there were so many things untouched, so much to be learned.
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