The unknown, previously so attractive, now presented another face—blank. Without waiting to have the information repeated, Wood rushed forth, determined as soon as he could procure assistance, to proceed to Jonathan Wild's house in the Old Bailey; while Mrs. Pottiswick had mentioned muttering. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off.
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