"I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. Why doesn’t she marry? Plenty of money under her father’s will. He must be gone to dispose of the body. “Hill gradually recovering consciousness. Here, Caliban, attend to the door, and keep the wicket locked till I return. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance.
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