As soon as he could be moved with safety, Jonathan had himself transported to Newgate, where he was carried into the Middle Ward, that he might feast his eyes upon his victim. Though not much passed the middle term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age. " This injunction was instantly obeyed. The only circumstance which served to awaken a darker feeling in his breast was, that his implacable foe Jonathan Wild had survived the wound inflicted by Blueskin, and was slowly recovering. “The surgeon’s knife is surely a kindly weapon,” she declared. With what airs we human atoms invest ourselves! What ridiculous fancies of our importance! We believe we have destinies, when we have only destinations: that we are something immortal, when each of us is in truth only the repository of a dream. It seemed as if all the precautions previously taken were here accumulated. Just then—I was nervous.
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