Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. " "Compromised. "Now come along, Jack. 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.
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