Good-bye, aunt. 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. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. E. “Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. He did it, he said, “to distract his mind.
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