"To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered. CHAPTER VIII. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. I would speak with you. ‘Some ineligible that your parents would not tolerate, I suppose. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition. "Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him. The Return.
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