This was occasioned by Jonathan Wild, who was seen to mount his horse and join the train. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. ‘Well, that depends. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold.
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