It was a sort of cooking-room, with an immense fire-place flanked by a couple of cauldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch, and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or on London Bridge. And you shall have a share of the gold for yourself. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity.
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