He dropped the key on the counterpane. "He's not to blame," said Jack, rising. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. "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.
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