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. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. " "I, a thief?" "Aye; thief, Roundhead and all. " Some order. "Don't you know me, mother?" "Ah!" shrieked Mrs.
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