I'll go alone. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. "What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing uneasily towards the window. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. I’ve been waiting all my life to get out of this town. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door.
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