Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. She drove me. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. " "Surely, you haven't stolen it?" "Stolen's an awkward word. " "Is this your notable scheme!" asked the knight, scornfully. She had not noticed such beauty in many years, and it almost caused her to weep. " "Probably Mr. He then made a sort of running noose, passed it over her body, and taking firmly hold of the bars, prepared to guide her descent. My house is the next door to the Cooper's Arms, in the Old Bailey, opposite Newgate. " "I'm sorry.
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