"From that door," continued the thief-taker, pointing to the gloomy portal of the prison opposite which they were standing, "the condemned are taken to Tyburn. The G. Wood dandled his little charge to and fro, after the most approved nursery fashion, essaying at the same time the soothing influence of an infantine melody proper to the occasion; but, failing in his design, he soon lost all patience, and being, as we have before hinted, rather irritable, though extremely well-meaning, he lifted the unhappy bantling in the air, and shook him with so much good will, that he had well-nigh silenced him most effectually. Don't you hear how you've made it cry?" "Throttle the kid!" rejoined Blueskin, fiercely. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. “He has said something of the sort. I want to but I cannot! Please accept that!” She yelled. Do you want me to say anything to him?\" As she suspected, John was connected to everybody. A nod was exchanged.
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