Her pulses began to race. The arrested women were herded in a passage of the Panton Street Police-station that opened upon a cell too unclean for occupation, and most of them spent the night standing. “It’s—it’s a difficult question. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. "What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. God knows how you did it. "Hear me, Sir Rowland!" he cried.
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