Luckily, Sir James was so much engrossed by his own task, that both the remark and gesture escaped him. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. Prison was beastly. You see, I kidnapped poor Jack and made him promise to send me word if you went careering off anywhere. It is useless to trace out her miserable career; though I can easily do so if you require it. Never mind. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. "Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale. " "Ha!" exclaimed Trenchard, starting, "is he so highly born?" "This letter will inform you," replied Wild, placing a document in his hand. \"What about scholarships?\" \"Can't get 'em if your parents are rich. We were to live in some wretched London suburb.
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