His age was not far from fifty. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. An inarticulate instinct which now found expression. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. As soon as Jack's escape became known, thousands of persons flocked to Newgate to behold his workmanship; and the jailers reaped am abundant harvest from their curiosity. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature.
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