To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr. ’ ‘You’re going to break into the house? You’re mad. I saw him last night at Jonathan Wild's, after my escape from the New Prison. People ran out of their shops to join the pursuit; and, by the time Wild had got into Field-lane, he had a troop of fifty persons at his heels —all eager to assist in the capture. “I had those beautiful roses from you on my first night, and a tiny little note but no address. William Kneebone was a woollen-draper of "credit and renown," whose place of business was held at the sign of the Angel (for, in those days, every shop had its sign), opposite Saint Clement's church in the Strand.
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