" "Thames Ditton—is that your name?" "No," replied the boy, impatiently; "Darrell—Thames Darrell. Dismissing the post-chaise at the Old Bailey, he walked to Newgate to ascertain what had occurred since the escape. And he departed, just as Wood, who had become alarmed by Thames's long absence, made his appearance with a blunderbuss in his hand. Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. As pretty as its owner.
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