She left for good after he fell asleep. “I ought to have done. "Sir Cecil is no more. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. Immediately he was gone, she regretted that she had not followed. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. Above was a spacious hall, connected with it by a flight of stone steps, at the further end of which stood an immense grated door, called in the slang of the place "The Jigger," through the bars of which the felons in the upper wards were allowed to converse with their friends, or if they wished to enter the room, or join the revellers below, they were at liberty to do so, on payment of a small fine. " "Where did you get it?" inquired Thames. .
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