Deserted by his older companion in iniquity, and instigator to crime, he did not know what might become of him; nor, as we have observed, was the sad spectacle he had just witnessed, without effect. A knot of three policemen in conflict with her staggered toward Ann Veronica’s attendants and distracted their attention. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him. ‘Yes, that is reasonable. Thames, look the door.
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