‘Now I see that you are mad indeed. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. He was accompanied by Ireton and Austin. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. If he escapes at all, it must be before our faces. Wasting no time, he crossed straight to the shutters and opened them.
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