She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. Though by no means so extensive or commodious as the modern prison, Old Newgate was a large and strongly-built pile. “Do you know,” she said, “that every one is remarking how ill you look. " "Man!" screamed Mrs. Paris was full, and it was by no means a retired spot which she had found.
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