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A post-chaise seen in the road first alarmed us. "To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered. "He was hanged that left his drink behind, you know, master," rejoined Sheppard. Bête, she told herself fiercely. “I think,” began Ann Veronica, “that you don’t realize—” He disregarded her entirely. Don't worry about me. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple.
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