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. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. We won’t drag you away until you’ve been through the place from top to bottom.
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