She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. ” “And I,” Brendon said, humbly, “although I am afraid there is no chance for me, my errand was the same. . ” She disengaged herself from him and went out of the room with a grave, preoccupied expression. 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.
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