Above this revolting spot was the female debtor's ward; below it a gloomy cell, called Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most terrible and noisome dungeon, situated underground, and unvisited by a single ray of daylight. —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724. . She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. One of them was a stout square-built man, with a singularly swarthy complexion, and harsh forbidding features. Jack fell on his knees beside her. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. . “I have been amusing myself up to now by trying to earn my living,” she replied.
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