Two large wards were situated in the Gate; one of which, the Stone Ward, appropriated to the master debtors, looked towards Holborn; the other called the Stone Hall, from a huge stone standing in the middle of it, upon which the irons of criminals under sentence of death were knocked off previously to their being taken to the place of execution, faced Newgate Street. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. For nothing they kiss. Wood, in equal trepidation.
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