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. It had been easy to steal. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. But it's an odd case. She held out her hand for it, but Gerald smiled. Gerald, I mean, not Madame Valade. Besides, he was a Yale man. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding.
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