"Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. "Jonathan Wild shall find it's not easy to detain me. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. Her body went into spasm.
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