" "Where are they?" "Ay, where are they?" chorussed the mob, flourishing their various weapons, and flashing their torches in the air; "we'll starve 'em out. “Take off your tunic. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. By the thief-taker's command, the boat was then rowed toward a muddy inlet, which has received in more recent times the name of Execution Dock. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side.
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