Jonathan Wild?" asked the attendant, in great trepidation. After the usual laconic greetings, he drew him on one side. But the twins were so fucked over at that point they were zombies. The man was my husband. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him. There is only Gerald to see me, after all.
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