It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. \" He perked up, ready to make conversation. The night his execution was therefore passed in a most anxious state of mind; nor was his uneasiness allayed by the appearance of Jonathan Wild, who, after he had been driven from the roof of the jail, repaired to the Middle Stone Ward in a fit of ungovernable passion, to vent his rage upon the prisoner, whom he looked upon as the cause of the present calamity. But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad.
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