“Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. Her aunt was making herself cuffs out of little slips of insertion under the newly lit lamp. She turned there, clasped her hands behind her back and put up her chin. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. " "Take hence this boy, then," rejoined Trenchard; "his looks unman me. "From that door," continued the thief-taker, pointing to the gloomy portal of the prison opposite which they were standing, "the condemned are taken to Tyburn. Besides these, there was a sturdylooking fellow, whom he instantly recognised as the honest blacksmith who had freed him from his irons at Tottenham. ‘This journey I do not like,’ she said more loudly.
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