But it is the truth. As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. ’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. I did what I could to comfort her but she died in terrible pain. It has come,—and sooner than you expected. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. I’ve got no feminine class feeling. "Some dreadful deed is about to be committed, which I may perhaps prevent," muttered Jack to himself.
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