’ She fairly pushed at Gerald, who grinned and gave in, moving back to the still open door. 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. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. Old Bedlam. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. She delighted in frustrating him. He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull.
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