Winifred screamed. The woman I wanted was another man's wife. Muffling up his face, Jack turned away; but he had not proceeded many steps when he heard a man reading aloud an account of his escapes from a newspaper. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. Mrs Sindlesham raised her brows. “I’m not in the mood right this instant. This horrible piece of deformity, who acted as drawer and cellarman, and was a constant butt to the small wits of the jail, was nicknamed the Black Dog of Newgate.
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