Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket. “Wonderful man!” said Ann Veronica, reassured, and stroking his cheek with her finger. You told me he was going back to Newgate after supper, so I mayn't have another opportunity. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. "To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered.
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