ToC About an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the door of the small backparlour already described at Dollis Hill was opened by Winifred, who, gliding noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on which was extended a sleeping female, and, gazing anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured,—"Heaven be praised! she still slumbers—slumbers peacefully. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. " The doctor was in the middle fifties, gray and careworn, but with alert blue eyes and a gentle mouth. When were you last confessed, Sir Rowland?" he added abruptly.
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