She required no instructions from books; her wit and beauty were her own. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. She saw how overworked he was. Pshaw!" added he, making an effort to subdue his emotion, "I can't leave you in this way. " "I can't.
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