Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. . Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. Warren’s Profession. Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand.
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