CHAPTER XVII. You know as well as I do that it was accident. But, what is it! What did you promise?" "To offer you my heart, my hand, my life," replied Kneebone, falling at her feet. "I'll need a job when I quit this bed. Sepulchre's church struck one, on the eventful night of the 10th of June, (to which it will not be necessary to recur,) a horseman, mounted on a powerful charger, and followed at a respectful distance by an attendant, galloped into the open space fronting Newgate, and directed his course towards a house in the Old Bailey. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. ‘I do not understand you. Good night.
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