The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. "Like master like man," observed Jack as he rolled the inanimate body to the side of the road. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. I’ll announce myself.
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