"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. " "For mercy's sake, go on!" cried Winifred. Where even to be a Catholic, they say, is to be looked upon with scorn and disgust. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person.
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