"I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. She felt her heartbeat accelerate until it was pounding her chest. Suddenly she had become afraid. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. The whole place had come to life, the magic seeped out of the walls. "Any price was better than your head. “If you speak—farewell. Having ascertained that a vessel sails for France from the river at daybreak to-morrow morning, I have secured a passage in her, and have already had the few effects I possess, conveyed on board.
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