“I have a message from your sister. What a heat that news had wrought. "Mine died while I was over here. It is useless to talk. Perhaps, she may tell me whose picture this is. . "To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. “You do not even know what you are talking about.
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