You are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a stronger hand than your own has led you thence. But I don't understand her; she's over my head. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. ToC About seven o'clock on the same night, Jonathan Wild's two janizaries, who had been for some time in attendance in the hall of his dwelling at the Old Bailey, were summoned to the audience-chamber.
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