"Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. Emir'in icadı büyük bir başarıydı. "To be sure I will, my child. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. My name is Wild— Jonathan Wild.
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