” She said quietly. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. You only mean a secret for a little time?” “Just for a little time,” she said; “yes. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. Returning in moments, Mr. Brendon made a quick movement forward.
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