Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey XVII. Jack now carefully closed the shutters, while Blueskin struck a light, with which he set fire to a candle. "Oh! you men! you men! Once get a thing into your head, and nothing will beat it out. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. Practically it was most of the chief interests in life that she proposed to settle in this pedestrian meditation. It’s no good flying out at that, Vee; I didn’t arrange it. A long shrill cat-call in the gallery seemed to be the signal.
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