" The Gate, which crossed Newgate Street, had a wide arch for carriages, and a postern, on the north side, for footpassengers. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. " It was curiously like the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those who disobeyed the Word. If you don't conquer this disgraceful propensity in time, you'll soon come to want; and then nothing can save you. Having seen his mistress safe down, Jack instantly descended, leaving the best part of his clothes, as a memorial of his flight, to the jailor. ’ ‘I think you—’ He broke off abruptly, astonished at what he had been about to say.
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