She didn’t choose her man. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. “You be off, missie,” said the fatherly policeman. . Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. Sepulchre's clock struck eight. It was dry, as if she had powdered it. She looked about and discovered a door partially hidden by shadow. "I'll see him fettered myself. . —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724.
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