Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane. I have been sitting with him ever since. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair.
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