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One night she apparently fell asleep. “I think we’ve exhausted this discussion,” she said. Hark ye, Blueskin," continued he, addressing that personage, who, in obedience to his commands, had, with great promptitude, driven out the rabble, and again secured the door, "a word in your ear. On this elevation a table was now placed, around which sat the turnkeys and their guests, regaling themselves on the fragrant beverage provided by the prisoner. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. I am—’ ‘Like me, entirely English. Nothing material occurred to Newgate, until the memorable year 1666, when it was utterly destroyed by the Great Fire.
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