"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. His face turned a dark crimson. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. The policemen were closing in from the sides to intervene. “I like you very much John. Altogether, it was the most dreadful noise he had ever heard. .
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