She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. Every gibbet at Tyburn and Hounslow appeared to have been plundered of its charnel spoil to enrich the adjoining cabinet, so well was it stored with skulls and bones, all purporting to be the relics of highwaymen famous in their day. His brows drew a little nearer together. God must love me, for he has guided me here. Warren’s Profession.
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