Kneebone, who began to feel sleepy, wound it up, and snuffed the candles. But he wrote on. “Lucy! You found me! I was just about to sleep some of those rum and Cokes off like the pig I am. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. .
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