The next instant, he was launched into eternity! Scarcely had he been turned off a moment, when a man with swarthy features leapt into the cart with an open clasp-knife in his hand, and, before he could be prevented, severed the rope, and cut down the body. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. It’s all very fine and all that, Vee, this freedom, but it isn’t going to work. I promise not to do it again. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been.
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