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” She breathed an inner sigh of relief. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. Previously to his descent he had left the nail and spike on the wall, and with these he fastened the blanket to the stone coping. However this may be, such was the ill report of the place that few passed along the Old Bailey without bestowing a glance of fearful curiosity at its dingy walls, and wondering what was going on inside them; while fewer still, of those who paused at the door, read, without some internal trepidation, the formidable name—inscribed in large letters on its bright brass-plate—of JONATHAN WILD.
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