" "Sir," said the chief turnkey, indignantly. In rushed Mr. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. Monroe would lock the whole group of us in the basement, every day. The end of the world seemed at hand. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communicated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage, under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his little burthen, to whom we shall now return. “You cowards!” said Ann Veronica, “put her down!” and tore herself from a detaining hand and battered with her fists upon the big red ear and blue shoulder of the policeman who held the little old lady. " "Mr. . That’s the fact of the matter.
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