’ ‘Don’t tell me,’ exploded his second-in-command. Wood turned to look at him. "Dog!" cried Wild, freeing himself by a powerful effort, and dealing Jack a violent blow with the heavy bludgeon, which knocked him backwards, "you are not yet a match for Jonathan Wild. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. Smith's melody had subsided. What do you think people will make of that? What will this lover of yours make of that?” At intervals Ann Veronica demanded to go, declaring her undying resolve to repay him at any cost, and made short movements doorward. After venting his wrath in the wildest manner, and uttering the most dreadful execrations, Jonathan retired to another part of the prison, where he passed the night in consultation with the governor, as to the best means of conveying the prisoner securely to Tyburn. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me.
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