Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. "There's a guinea to drink our health," she added, slipping a piece of money into his hand. " "He protect you," retorted Blueskin, maliciously; "you haven't a worse enemy on the face of the earth than Jonathan Wild. . In vain did the woollendraper offer to set him free if he would restore the stolen article, or give up his associate, to whom it was supposed he might have handed it.
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