Down under the incalculable selfishness of the penitent child there was the man's uneasy recollection of Judas. That would not help her. But, as he made no answer, he was removed. It was a sort of cooking-room, with an immense fire-place flanked by a couple of cauldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch, and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or on London Bridge.
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