" The Gate, which crossed Newgate Street, had a wide arch for carriages, and a postern, on the north side, for footpassengers. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. . E. Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. There had been fusses and scenes dimly apprehended through half-open doors. ‘You, soldiers,’ she yelled.
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