With each step his heartbeat increased exponentially. “I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields. Oh! my dear, dear son, be warned in time. He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street.
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