ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. “I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. My janizaries are without. ’ It seems that I was mistaken. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. ’ ‘Who were they?’ she asked abruptly.
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