She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. 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. Wait a second. If you like books and music, we'll get along. "My child!" he groaned faintly.
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