“But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. " "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. ” The girl shook her head.
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