” “Act two,” she continued. His breakfast despatched, which he ate with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate, chuckling as he went at the consternation which his appearance would create amongst the turnkeys. His voice now had lost its ironies. Something in his tone pinched her heart. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt.
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