“Eight, Cavendish Square. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. As it was feared that some mischief would ensue, Wild volunteered, if he were allowed a small body of men, to ride forward to Tyburn, and keep the ground clear until the arrival of the prisoner. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. A shudder rippled across his shoulders.
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