ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. And I have no more the pistol. You’re all such good cooks. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. You might get faint, but you can fight it. “Soon she will return.
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