ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. The thing is done. “Let us walk across the Park at least,” he said to Ann Veronica. This is a mere boy. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping.
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