\"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. Slowly descending Snow Hill, the train passed on its way, attended by the same stunning vociferations, cheers, yells, and outcries, which had accompanied it on starting from Newgate. The two hostlers, however, kept close at his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not hold much longer. ” “There’s a sort of instinct of rebellion,” said Capes.
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