As soon as he could be moved with safety, Jonathan had himself transported to Newgate, where he was carried into the Middle Ward, that he might feast his eyes upon his victim. ‘In love? I? Don’t be ridiculous. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. ‘Very. Kneebone smiled assent. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood.
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