The terror faded from her eyes. Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. Were any thing to happen to him, Newgate wouldn't be what it is, nor Tyburn either. He would make her rub her lips with waxes and other ointments, precursors of lipsticks. These thoughts, however, came to a broken end. Having seen every precaution taken to ensure his safe custody, he departed, muttering to himself, "I shall yet live to see him hanged—I shall live to see him hanged.
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