“I would have given up anything to see you your old self again—as you are this evening. Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. Slowly descending Snow Hill, the train passed on its way, attended by the same stunning vociferations, cheers, yells, and outcries, which had accompanied it on starting from Newgate. Her new husband was pleased to watch the astonished look on her face as tray after tray appeared on the grand table, each better than the next. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. The skipper obeyed, and in another moment, they swept through the narrow lock.
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