There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. ’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips.
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